Speaking of which, I have sort of figured that, if I don't manage to do something I actually feel like going to every day, I might go back to school, maybe to a stats program. I will feel like a complete sellout for doing anything other than pure maths, plus I don't actually know anything about stats, but it has piqued my interest lately and it is fairly handy. Plus, I already am a sellout.
I need to get out of here.
I also think something is not right in my abdomen.
It's a little frustrating: I'm pretty awesome, I have fairly good credentials, and I just can't get into a good position. It's like I'm Richard Rich in A Man for All Seasons, except that everybody likes me and wants me to succeed. Well, I suppose some would say I'm in a good position now.
From Dear Vera:
Such justifications are naturally scant defense against the sentiments of regret toward the undeniably inescapable consequences of any guileless but admittedly unfortunate actions prompted by an overabundance of exuberance and youthful desire for what so completely captured both imagination and inclination with an indescribably irresistible feminine grace revealed subtly in each casual motion and word that in falling carelessly from tongue or finger gained with sublime efficacy an insidious influence over any unlucky hearer who fell sway to the unwilling enchantress's professedly unintentional charms. Affected innocence of allure understandably provokes skepticism from cynical observers to whom the idealized image of the fairer sex has lost much of its fairytale luster from repeated abuse by actual specimens who unsurprisingly happen to suffer from identical foibles and shortcomings to those commonly instilled through biology or rearing under the inept or pitiless behest of the very same sort of moral and emotional cripple as is now being effectively nurtured toward an aversion to human unpredictability and defensive disingenuousness in the face of that spontaneous novelty of thought and action positioned antithesis zero.I have been trolled.
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