Second semester
For a class show-and-tell today, I brought my Irish dance wig. There's nothing quite like exposing a general audience to feis culture. Fridays tend to be wonderful, glowing days. A soft deluge of snow broke out during lunch. The world seemed to slow its pace.
So did life after last week's final exams. Six or seven hours of sleep every night this week means at least one of my new year's resolutions is off to a good start. Unfortunately, I have to choose my senior year courses soon. It's odd how that sort of decision can launch me into a chronic fit of worry. Will colleges kill me if I don't take a fourth year of history or science? Would I be able to survive with three AP classes, or should I stick to two? What will my weekly workload look like?
These things would be much easier with the power to peer into the various "future" universes, to see which track leads where, and to pick the one with the most favorable set of outcomes. Living would be reduced to simple science. Yet, in a way, it would no longer be life.
So did life after last week's final exams. Six or seven hours of sleep every night this week means at least one of my new year's resolutions is off to a good start. Unfortunately, I have to choose my senior year courses soon. It's odd how that sort of decision can launch me into a chronic fit of worry. Will colleges kill me if I don't take a fourth year of history or science? Would I be able to survive with three AP classes, or should I stick to two? What will my weekly workload look like?
These things would be much easier with the power to peer into the various "future" universes, to see which track leads where, and to pick the one with the most favorable set of outcomes. Living would be reduced to simple science. Yet, in a way, it would no longer be life.
