I studied for four hours today!!! A month ago that would have been cause for disappointment (instead of celebration) but these days I'll take what I can get.

I've decided that the only reason I was able to work so hard in the second block (which ended before the holidays) was because I was still operating inside the fog of ridiculous personal expectations fostered by block 1 (which nearly killed me it was so damn hard) and that somehow that caused me to forget how fun it is to laze about and generally be unproductive. Being done with work at 3:00 is really pretty damn nice. Which is also why, so far, block 3 is proving to be a real bitch.

I wanted to go home SO BADLY at 2:00 today. But Drew wasn't answering his phone or replying to my text messages, so I couldn't justify it. Had I managed to get ahold of him before 4:00 I would have used him as an excuse to go back to Center City.

Every day I make a plan for my studying that allows me to review all the material leading up to next Wednesday's quiz. And then, once I've committed the plan to paper, I don't follow through. For the past two days I've completely ignored the plan, which of course just means the next day I have a more compressed, hellish schedule. Which also gets ignored. So now if I study during every waking moment between now and Wednesday I'll be in good shape.

Our new friend Brad got annoyed with me last night for complaining about my inability to study. Brad is a believer in "taking it easy" and insists that the grades during years one and two "really don't mean much." I nodded and agreed and inside was thinking "But I still have to get honors in every class." Now I just have to keep Brad from saying shit like that in front of Drew. Drew doesn't need any more reason to stop listening when I complain about how hard school is.

It's 7:10 on a Friday night. I really shouldn't be in my med school's library writing a blog entry. I'm going home now.

I wish you guys could see my hair. I told someone today, "I need to get a haircut" (secretly thinking that my hair actually looked pretty good) and she responded "Yeah." So I went to the bathroom and realized that it looks like I'm wearing a Ronald McDonald wig. Or like I'm my mom in the late 80s.