Back and still stuffed.

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I hope all of you had good things to nibble, gulp, chew upon, gnaw on, or otherwise consume. I hope, even more, that you found reasons to be thankful. I did and I did. I will not go into detail as you probably know the story well by now I hope.

I am still torn about what to do with college. The added bit of medicine may be enough to see me through. I have been having people cheer for both sides of the issue. I have yet to speak to my landlord. If he would not release me from the contract the point would not matter, as I would continue with classes. I will go ahead and speak with my academic adviser. I will see what he actually wants me to take and go from there. All of those classes I suspect I will need to take, save one, are brutal. And that one is only decent because I tamed it pretty well already. After those, I would be down to pure electrical engineering courses, as I may have noted.

My mother would love for me to quit. Of course, she has some hope of me moving in temporarily, buying a house locally, and having her move in. She has to know I could not do that. She actually uses the furnace, too high and too often, for one thing. And, she is still too demanding. Plus there is my draw to the mountains. If I go, that is where I will go. No, living together would only work short term. An acquaintance I just met, who earned his electrical engineering degree at Iowa State, suggested that I was pretty much (or would be) done with the drop classes and really recommended I not quit now. I did not argue with him, as I may have a bit with desert cat, that I do not think that it works the way it used to work. They are all drop speed test classes at this point, for engineers at least. It seems a waste to toss 130 to 150 (open major, maybe 60-80 engineering) credits and all the work. But I am not sure if I can see my way through. And further, I am not interested in hiring on at some firm with an undergraduate degree. I really would prefer to go on to graduate school for a masters.

Actually, I would not seek a job without gaining a masters. That is brutal as well, but from my 5 personal friends who have done that (4 of them have or are going on for their Ph. D. (or second Ph. D. in one case)), undergraduate work is the hardest, then the doctorate, then Masters (well, Brian might think the masters was harder, but I think he started it the first time in the wrong school?). Well, that given the rat race to get into the school(s) in the first place. None of them were in engineering, though one is in physics and one was in differential equations. Anyway, what becomes the point is even being accepted into a masters program and then finding the right one.

Oh, forget it. I will just make two sets of plans, see how this term finishes out, speak to a professor or two and my academic advisor, and see what happens.

Next…

Something odd is happening. I keep hearing women compliment me on being handsome. Now, I must be honest. I am not a handsome man. I am tall but I am fat and plain or odd looking. I might even seem a bit dejected because of school and medicinal complaints of late, added to the complications of so much mental calculation about what to do going on in my bean. (Is being distracted if still social attractive to women?) As well, I have flecks of gray and white in my beard and hair. I cannot presume to know why such things are being mentioned. They are a bit disturbing. I do not know, but I think women are just being tricky, somehow. But none of them even wanted me to do any work, or lend them money, or anything. Tricksies, methinks.

Something else that is odd. The other day, when I was frying chicken on medium-high, I was adding the second batch and my finger went into the oil (yeah, ok, I was trying to watch a show, the laundry had just buzzed and I was in a hurry to do that, and I did not use the tongs as is my usual). I did not notice at first, and readjusted the piece twice (I like things just so, when cooking, do not crowd the chicken if you can please and thank you). I then realized my finger felt wet. I then realized what that meant. And then, finally, I pulled my finger out (quickly? it must have been in the oil 2, 3, or more seconds). At first it did not hurt, then I got a little “you are burning” brain signal which lasted about 10 seconds so I put the finger under cool running water. I did not burn, I did not blister, and I could not then, and have not since, been able to tell the difference between that finger and any other. Are you not supposed to burn in such a case? I had the cave at a crispy 68 F, maybe that offset it (seriously, if I say it jestingly in a way). First it was boiling water on my arm, twice, a goodly lot of it, within a few moments, (right out of a whistling tea pot) without burning, now this.

Something is odd. And, women are acting weird of late (though I do not get among them except at school either). Something bad is going to happen, I just know it. Probably another woman trick. I do not know but I will be watching them. Well, I usually do, but that is not the point.

Oh, I came home to a 56 F cave. It seems that the furnace has stopped working again. And though I am a hot body this is a bit chill. That is about the high I like the outside temperature (up to 65 F and down to about 20 F, below zero, is my favorite range), but I like the cave to occasionally warm to 72-74 F, when waking up or just to knock the chill off for a bit, I really prefer an underwear wearable 66 F to 68 F the rest of the time. I might have to get the woolens out until that dratted thing can be fixed. It is not even clicking at this point, it is just off. Hmm, I am a bit nervous about some of it. Something smells funny in there. But the hotwater heater is working and is gas, so I do not think an explosion would happen (or a big one) since they are right near each other. Still, it smells like gas, I think.