It must take an extra ordinarily brave soul (which, I am not) to decide that snacking on wasabi coated dried peas helps to accelerate the process of understanding 200 pages worth of material talking about the economic history of the country. For me it was a bad, on a scale of 1 to 10 rated 15.5, decision. Right now I cannot concentrate on which particular bit of my upper body hurts most – my throat? My tongue? My nasal passages? My jaws? Everything aches. Terribly; alarmingly resembling someone prodding my delicate flesh with a molten hot iron rod straight out of your best gore fantasy.

That aside, I’m still trying to come to terms with how my meticulous schedule planning at the beginning of the semester left me with a six hours break in between classes on Monday. Either reality is cruel; or I’m excessively ignorant of potential pot holes laid out before me. (This might come in between my aspirations to learn how to drive. Lordy.)