I've been dreading this day for weeks.
The term ends soon, and my professors are expecting my work.
I never did care about deadlines in an academic context. I make a religious effort to find my own mistakes, and I view grades as oversimplifications anyway.
Still, I want this work done. It's important to me to at least try out some of what I believe I've learned.
But there's less than no chance of that happening. Lady Luck has a special place in her heart for healers; the bottom.
My work as a healer has always been more important to me than the tattered pieces of paper I hand in. I make it known to my teachers that I know the material.
And right now, I'm sitting here typing this, killing time, waiting for a phone call. My dear brother, a year younger than I, has just been informed that his beloved of 8 years wishes to be with him not a day longer.
I've asked this question before. Why was I called? The same reply, every time. There is nobody else.
I got word from him over AIM. (Counseling people via instant messaging is difficult, but possible. And people do funny things when you put a gun to their heads.) An hour later.
thank you, my friend, my brother
I look outside of my tiny library, where I keep my computer and my work, and, despite all the sour predictions of the weatherman, in the south I can see just a touch of sunlight.
I wrote two short programs in x86 assembly, did a little complex analysis, and all that's left is around 750 lines of C++ code.
My heart is much lighter now. My headache is gone. My hands don't hurt so bad, and my chest doesn't burn.
Today was a good day.