Finals

We're into our finals* here, which means everyone is studying, trying to study, failing to study, giving up. I had my first exam this morning. It was exactly what I expected: difficult, but I probably passed. Most people described it as having raped them, and people are now more readily willing to agree with me; that our chemistry professor really wasn't very good.

We also had our first Dead Engineers Society** meeting last night. It went well enough and it made for good practice for chemistry, but now we think that the smaller the group the better. I'm guessing that three is optimal. We had a long talk afterward and have many ideas of how to make this work. Oh, and I think we've got the room secured regardless of having it booked or no because the janitor (who secretly uses the rooms computer to watch television shows) let's us get away with it. In all, the session demonstrated that while these clandestine meeting could be useful for study, we've a long way to go to make them work.

On the other side of campus in residence, I'm basically living in our floor lounge. This has been noticed by several people; that I spend most of my time (and the most time of any of my floor-mates) in the floor lounge. I do most of my studying in here (yes, that's implying that I'm here, in the lounge, right now), as well as many of my debates and conversations with Alex and Joël. I cook and eat a few meals a week in here, as well as cleaning the place up. I watch movies with certain friends, and now, the latest addition: I sleep in here.

This came last night, when I couldn't take my roommate's snoring anymore. I think of hurting him every night as I have trouble trying to find some shred of somnus. It usually comes a few subjective hours later, after going insane from the constant noise and exhausting myself from irritation. This cannot be healthy for me.

So, I put on my cloths and my gray hoodie, headed into the lounge, closed the door, lay down on the row a chairs, and slept. It worked rather well. Any time someone enters the room, the loud creaking of the door alerts me (such as when Joël walked in stood looking over me until he recognized who I was), and there aren't too many late night visitors. Surprisingly, the light from the hallway and the noise of people going about their late night affairs, as well as the refrigerator, don't bother me all that much. I slept well, even for the few hours I was left with.

Now, I have to confront my roommate about his snoring. I HAVE TO because I know that if I don't, I'll let these types of issues slide in the future, and I don't want to set such a bad precedent. I'm just having trouble because I'm not usually direct and up front, I dislike confrontation, and because our quiet disregard of each other makes him seem unapproachable (especially since I know he doesn't want a roommate to begin with).

Anyway, moving on. I had a call from home a few days ago. These are usually somewhat inconvenient and frequently involve several failed calls back and forth before I'm in a place where I can take a call (id est, not class or a library), and people on both ends pick up. It's nice to hear from the other side of the country, but the calls are usually hard to hear. My parents live on the edge of cellphone service and know how to use Skype very well. Still, it's nice to know what's up on the other coast.

And that's about it. I have some more I could say about my (lack of) love life, academics, or conversations, but I won't bore you with that.

*Final exams of the term.

**The name comes from the Dead Poets Society. It's a bit morbid, but the whole thing is a work in progress.