Game Time!

Comrades, the hour is upon us. I am to be taken from my quarters at sunrise (okay, fine, 9:30 or so). I will be carrying upon my back the enormous crucifix of 10 weeks of mind-wrenching research about the nature, form and structure of liposomes and their ability to either hemi- or fully-fuse with each other under specific conditions. The people of Bethlehem or Euclid, whichever way you choose to pronounce it, will react to me in a mixed manner. Some may spit at me. Some may offer me water. Some may even attempt to carry my crucifix for me. Alas, I shall arrive at the 10th hour before the Council of Elders who will proceed to flagellate me and pierce me with their nails. I will also be wearing a crown of thorns because it just seems appropriate.

I have prepared myself for the worst case scenario tomorrow. I am prepared to walk into the room and have P. Hanson spit at me and punch me in the face. Next, I am thinking P. Schlesinger will throw a chair at me, while S. Dutcher holds me in a headlock and knees me in the balls. Finally, D. Ory will light fire to my ass. Now that I am prepared for this epic battle, I am quite sure that nothing any of these eminent scholars say to me tomorrow will be so bad. And so, hopefully, I will be able to sleep tonight. And tomorrow, I shall not cry when faced with them.

I have chosen a black shirt, a pair of khaki pants, a brown belt, a brown tie and a pair of brown shoes for tomorrow's presentation. Picture it; it's a glorious sight. I have already tried them on and I'd dare say they look pretty damn good. So, in case I should have a serious meltdown, at the very least I will look good melting down. I wouldn't fail a kid who wore a tie to his prelim; would you? (Don't answer that, Cailz).

Pray for me.