Thirsty Thursday

Happy Thirsty Thursday, everyone. For some people, this day of the week involves going out and having a good time, most likely getting quite drunk and throwing an egg at my window. For me, however, this day involved feeling bloated from drinking too much water after eating all the salty peanuts out of a bag of Target trail mix. It was a tricky endeavor because most of the time you can’t tell if the mysteriously shaped lump is a chocolate covered peanut or raisin.

Today was one of those days that would have been more effectively utilized by rolling over and going back to sleep. Instead, I got out of bed at eight in the morning with absolutely no desire to make something out of myself. The goal today was to just get by. On Monday, I wrote “Get shit done” on my whiteboard as a sort of inspiration, but it was pretty obvious that that was a joke after taking a two-hour nap on Tuesday that I didn’t need because I was already perfectly well rested.

It rained off and on most of the day, but it was so gradual that most of the time I couldn’t be sure whether or not it was actually raining. I suppose that’s okay, but it only adds to the inescapable “blah” feeling that tends to hang around on rainy Thursdays. Days like these are perfect for watching endless reruns of Law & Order SVU, but horrible for staring at a quantum chemistry book and hoping to get something out of it. No matter how hard they try, they can’t seem to make chromatic dispersion interesting, and really, it’s not their fault. I didn’t sign up for the chemistry major looking for a waterpark. I mean, if they had a major geared toward Law & Order, I’d be all over that, but unfortunately, the university has yet to respond to my grievance. True, there’s criminology and forensic science, but those tend to focus more on the scientific study and analysis of crimes, as opposed to watching Christopher Meloni lose his temper on a child molester.

But if I were really going to change the course of my academic life, I know exactly what I would be. A few years ago while reading a Sherlock Holmes anthology, I came across a footnote that made mention of “Sherlock Holmes scholars.” That’s when I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. How great would that be? Just sitting around in an armchair, smoking a pipe, reading Sherlock Holmes. I told people of my intended field, and they brushed it off, saying that’s not how it worked. I didn’t have anything solid to prove them wrong with—until I came across another book in the library about a group of Sherlock Holmes specialists who got together and applied the consulting detective’s tactics to unsolved murder cases. It didn’t specify whether or not they dressed up, but I’m sure they did. I knew that was the job for me.

I actually did look into becoming a private detective, and was entirely serious about it, but apparently it’s illegal unless you have a background in law enforcement. That’s just ridiculous in my opinion, but such is life. I’ll just stay behind the lab bench with my textbooks for now, but one day, I’m going to pop on a trench coat and crack the next Da Vinci Code. Just you wait.

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