The commitment to the culminating experience diet

I'm guessing these poor bastards have a thesis to write as well. Or perhaps they've just endured too much familial closeness for one week. Maybe the Tower of Almonds (chocolate covered, chocolate covered then rolled in cocoa...) someone sent along in three gold boxes just weren't enough.

After all the problems, a two hour meeting put the onus squarely back on my shoulders, and now I have to go back in the lab to squirt droplets into microplates, spend evenings hunched over books called "Free Radical Chemistry" and somehow write the damned thing -- all with the goal of roasting in the summer sun wearing a mortarboard. And to answer questions about what I plan on doing next.

Tomorrow I'm sending all the chocolate contraband out of the house with the spouse and plan to hit that ratwheel they incorrectly call "the elliptical" without using Hakim's heavy hand with the cheese at Taco Bell as a beacon.

I face a future with biscotti (drywall with hazelnuts and a quick slather of chocolate) because they have less fat -- and since they can't be dipped in tea without destroying it, must be chewed like a dog biscuit, making them a mighty fine angry food. They're the angriest food there is. Oatmeal's antichrist is the biscotti.

Oh well, at least I have dominoes. Yes, I am ready for the home now, because I taught the spouse to play with ones that go up to 9. We even got color coded ones because let's face it folks, we're already plenty confused and I might have to understand chelating transitional metals, but fuck it if I have to count to 9 in black and white too.

Stumble It!