The Most Depressing Day of the Year

Twenty-four days into 2005 and already Dr. Cliff Arnall is already saying that today is the peak of misery - the most depressing day of the year.  Of all the excuses that one could use to get out of work/school, I think this one has even less merit than the traditional standards like "my car broke down," "my child is sick," or "the dog ate my homework."  (Silly dog should have ate the whole book; then you might have had an excuse!)  I doubt calling in for a personal day because it is the most depressing day of the year would fly very far.  One excuse that might be valid, though, is if you're living on the East Coast and are literally snowed in because of the massive storm that hit there this weekend.   

Besides, here in the middle of what last week seemed like vast tundra, where winds rattled the glass in windows and literally took your breath away, it's sunny today.  Not only is it sunny, but it will be almost warm, too.  The high temperature today should be in the 40s, the warmth slowly etching away at the snow piled up against the roads and in the residential yards.  There are still places that glisten when the sun hits the snow.  I noticed that on the bus ride back to vet med this morning.  I suppressed the urge to exit the bus and make snow angels, disturbing the pristine look to the quad area on main campus.   

This week begins the cycle of quizzes and exams at the college.  While I have three scheduled quizzes this week, I'm sure there will be a fourth unannounced quiz in one particular class.  I can almost guarantee it.  For as much as I held my breath last week, expecting it then, the professor surprised me by turning down the lights and beginning the lecture without passing out a quiz paper.  Of course, that didn't mean I was lackadaisical about studying for that class this weekend.  Page and page flipped in the book, as I sleepily read through the material.  I need to learn not to look ahead to see how long the chapters are in the textbook.  It makes the process longer, and slightly more depressing when I realize that in an hour, I've only read about ten pages, with about as many head nods interspersed within that time period. 

My desk at home is covered with small piles of 5"x7"s.  The 5"x7"s that I have, though, are not instantly captured color photographic memories.  Instead, they are white with faintly drawn pink lines.  The lines are filled with black writing, and green highlighter.  It's the beginning of the notecard craze.  I have a set made for most of the equine pathology that I need to know for the quiz tomorrow.  By the end of the week, I'll have plenty more to add to the collection, with the rest of the diseases neatly compressed into a portable format for studying all over the city.  But think about it.  Who really takes their notecards with them all over the city - to the grocery, to the post office, to the local pub?  Not I.  My notecards might make it to the kitchen for some use while I manage to make a toasty grilled cheese sandwich. 

Luckily from my kitchen, while I'm attempting not to burn said sandwich because I was reviewing equine pathology, I can see over the counter top into the living room, where the smallish TV sits.  Surely the TV will be on FOX News in the near future.  I found out this weekend from MP's dad that a reporter from that network has been embedded with his unit in Iraq.  I will get a chance to see what it's really like for him, if I am so lucky as to see the reports.  And with any luck at all, I'll get to see MP on TV.  I sent out a package on Saturday to him with some candy and handwarmers, and of course, a letter.  All the support and prayers I can spare to give to any cause is going directly toward him and his colleagues.  Every day, I pray for him to come home soon.  I'll be passing the time until he gets here by being a veterinary student, and reviewing those notecards. 

Comments

[Adam]

I heard that on the radio that morning too. Hope your exams and quizzes went/are going ok.