There is no title for this one

I had a dream about my mentor last night. He was mentoring me in surgery. Perhaps I was a surgical resident. In any case, he told me to perform a brain surgery ON MYSELF. I remember thinking momentarily, "But it might be painful. But wait, I've done it before, I can do this!" I was getting myself all pumped up and psyched. This must be what it feels like to be brainwashed. You manage to convince yourself that the utterly absurd is the correct course of action. He took a piece of paper and drew out the two places on my forehead that I was to make the incision. After the incision, I was to pull apart the tissues underlying the skin and pluck out something, I don’t know what. He also gave me some thread which I was suppose to use to sew myself back together. It all made perfect sense to me. I remember worrying a little bit that it won’t go as planned, but the thought that someone else should be doing this never occurred to me. Really!!! What the hell is this suppose to mean? I was all ready to take the scalpel to my forehead too, intent on impressing him with my skill and dexterity. Somewhere in my mind, I have come unhinged.

In other news, I forced myself to send out a secondary yesterday. It was pretty crappy actually. I know I shouldn’t be such a downer, but I don’t think I have much of a shot at this school so the effort and drive to try very hard and write some stunning essay for it is simply beyond my psychological capacity. Still, I’m happy to have sent it out and get it off my TODO list. I have a love/hate relationship with my TODOs. Making a TODO makes me feel organized, but my ultimate desire is to destroy and eliminate the TODO list too.

I’ve reverted back to an old habit again – watching cheesy Asian drama. The current one’s got all the elements of cheesy soap opera fare – dashing rich guy, beautiful, sweet but slightly less well off girl, a loyal and constant admirer who loves her, a mother who’s the ultimate beyatch, two side characters who provide comic relief. When I first started watching, I was still detached and bemused at how bad it was and how forced everyone’s acting seemed. Now, in spite of my realization of its obvious flaws, I’m hooked! Hooked hopelessly, like an addict. Soap opera addiction is really not that much different from alcoholism, I think.

Last night went to Happy Hour with coworkers. It was like a couples night thing, because everyone in the lab is pretty much 1 of 2. They all brought their significant others, including one couple who brought their 2 month old baby. Cute thing, couldn’t really hold up its neck yet, so it was just this puddly gooey little floppy thing. I was afraid to hold it in case I dropped it.

Jason should be having a good time in China right now. Lucky boy. I wish I were there too.