That's not what the Death card means

That rattling noise...
written 2007-07-26 09:06:44 may hear while talking to me is the sound of the last few remaining pieces of information - legal principles, mostly, but also comic book factoids and how to figure out which direction any given interstate highway travels - clattering around in my skull. All the rest of them are gone, having been dumped out onto a Scantron sheet yesterday.

I really thought the essay day would knock me on my ass. Maybe it was just the combined effects of both days. I don't know. I'm mentally exhausted. I can't conceive of doing anything more intellectually challenging than using a knife and fork properly. And not, like, "properly" in the sense that polite people place the knife and fork in the correct place, and don't hold them in a certain way, or some kind of Miss Manners "properly," more like "properly" in the "why does he have a cork on the end of his fork?" "properly." More like that. (Ha! Still smart enough to make movie references! Sigh.)

I can't even type. I had to try three times to spell "type" correctly just now. I'm going to go do something more my speed... maybe lie still somewhere, or watch daytime television.

--9:09 AM, EDT, Warminster, PA, I don't feel like I did poorly, just that I can't think clearly enough to judge how I did.

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