that vague sense of panic

Classes for the fall quarter started off with a bang on Wednesday. The first batter in the order? Organic chemistry. Now, jumping into organic chemistry cold feels a bit like being dumped in the deep end of the pool and you weren’t that strong of a swimmer to start with, except I was pretty competent at chemistry back in the day. That’s what happens when you don’t exercise that part of your brain for awhile, I think. I’m pretty sure, however, that if I flounder around a bit–um, I mean, work hard, with tenacity and determination–I’ll get my sea legs.

Let me explain. During the first 30 minutes or so as the prof talked about acids and bases, a vague sense of panic crept in, replete with an overage of self-doubt and fears that I may have to go back and retake a year of chemistry. The experience was what I suspect being lost in France and only barely remembering bits and pieces from the 12 years of French you took in grade school and high school feels like.

The rational decision may be to go back and take general chemistry, but I’m stubborn. Well. I’m going to go off and do some problems from the textbook, and depending on how the first quiz goes, I’ll make a decision then.

One post for 9/11.

Flipping through the TV programming guide tonight, I saw the familiar 9/11 documentaries and movies popping up in the listings, reminding me that, on Thursday, it will have been seven years since that day. I have little in the way of comment except to say that, as always, remember to treasure your loved ones every day.

I located an email I sent to friends and family the day after, having been reminded of its existence because of the proximity of September 11, and also from having had the chance this weekend to see an old friend whom I hadn’t seen in nearly four years. Its text follows below.

Continue reading “One post for 9/11.”