Why is it that the moment I start doing something useful (well, theoretically useful, any way) like studying antiarrhythmics and cardiac anatomy and physiology, some idiot in my building decides now would be a perfect time to listen to trash Top 40!
I have had to endure listening to echo-y, through-the-walls versions of songs by 1) Kelly Clarkson and now 2) Jewel.
I mean, really, people, I wouldn't mind so much if you were listening to something good, like Alexi Murdoch or Gillian Welch, but Jewel?! I ask you, now!?
It really does feel like a glorified college campus dorm around here on weekends. Hark! Behold the Din of the Inane: a.k.a The Stupid Girl Nextdoor Babbling on Her Cellphone Incessantly, The Blaring Crappy Top 40 Music, the Random Shrieking and Laughing. O tempora! O mores!
And then there's Jamie, of course, the old academic stick-in-the-mud, plowing through ACLS protocol and trying to memorize Starling's Laws, wishing I didn't live around twenty-somethings who, if queried, would probably think that Pravda was some rip-off Italian fashion designer.
I also spent my day baking (buttermilk and oatmeal bread, and cinammon, baked apple, cranberry, raisin bread). I even made some baked apples (out of some 99 cents/lb rip off apples that were firm yet bizarrely mealy once you bit into them). I also did laundry and gave the dog a bath.
Party on, Wayne. Party on, Garth.
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1 comment:
Rent some self-congratulatory academic documentaries. Then you'll really know how to kick it.
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