Week 3. Four years minus three weeks.
Over the past few months, my dogs have become rather bored of the smell of dogs, cats, chickens, sheep, and cows on my clothes when I arrive home. Spots of blood, pee, vomit, and poop are another matter entirely: body fluids for the win. Today I came home reeking of male goat and sheep lanolin. I expected the dogs to fall on the ground in paroxysms of joy. Nope, nothing. But on Tuesday when I came home with tangible tendrils of swine barn funk waving off my hair, skin, and clothes, well, that certainly got their attention. What could possibly be the source of that fantastic odor?
Our nascent class band, tentatively named The Lacunae, has already decided to call their first hit "Speak Softly and Touch the Pig." One of the band members plays the bagpipes.
Our first big exam is next week; there will be a big exam every week after that until Thanksgiving. Some of my peers are having trouble adjusting to the pace and volume of information. From my tiny little window of class time so far, I think that the classes are not too different in the level of detail of information and expectation of performance than any other specialized STEM grad class. The real difference is that we are taking four or five of those classes each term, not one or two as we might in grad school.
I'm still trying to find a rhythm to studying and not studying. It seems like I have to make a new plan every day. But the dogs and I muddle through. As I write this, Mimi is methodically emptying the toy boxes in an effort to find the perfect toy that will drag me away from the study table. Time for a break!
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