Again, I'm ready to lop off my feet. The pain I experienced tonight was 3x worse than November's episode.
My favorite phrase uttered by the doctor was in regards to trying naproxin sodium and ibprofen, two drugs I consumed buckets of in November when trying to find a cure. I said, "I tried them, but they didn't work." He replied, "They work for me." Recall all of the times you've heard people say that about software and all of the dents you've left in your head by slapping your forehead.
I'm 22, my blood pressure is off the charts, and I've got an ailment that requires nurses to dust off books on things experienced by mideival kings. Maybe it's the class that expects me to create a 3D brain model out of molding clay, conduct and document a real cognition experiment, and take a final. Maybe it's the other two classes where I have a one or two exams left. Maybe it's the software devleopment class, the best class I've taken at this university, where I've been neglecting my poor partner to work on my re-freakingly-donkulusly large writing project that will soon be revealed to the world.
I really want to give a talk at YAPC::NA about contract programming in Perl, as I'll be taking a directed study this summer to learn more about pre and postconditions and invariance and the like to improve Class::Contract. I think it's finally sinking in that I don't have time to do everything I can think of.
This summer's resolution: no projects. Other than my psych elective and independant study, no projects. Nothing. Nada. Goose egg. At the end, I'll weasel my way up to YAPC and party with your all.
