Is an existentialist crisis precipitated by memories of Cabaret normal?
I need more structure in my life. This whole working 80 hours a week is fine, but working whenever I want is screwing with my little brain full of mush.
Looking back, I like to think that my time in CoMO was spent "being creatively fulfilled"--a goal I try to strive for. To be honest though, it was more like five years of single minded focus on escaping the midwest.
In the physical sense I knew I wanted to relocate to one of the coasts, surround myself with people smarter and more creative than me. Not to sound like a pompous ass or anything, haha.
Introspection will be the death of me.
I saw Dr. Birchler this week when he came to Stanford. It was great to see a familiar face and be reminded of a different life.
Speaking of random things: I'm teaching an entomology taxonomy course to highschoolers in two weeks! Mom is sending me my duplicates so we can do some hands on stuff with the kids. I think it's going to be a lot of fun.
Now I just have to find some live specimens. How do you politely ask your friends if they could collect fleas or cockroaches? I think those are probably the only insects that survive the peninsula's suburban sprawl.