Somedays I forget I am a student. Momentarily, but it is enough to give me the sense that I do more in New York than fill out care plans, read power point presentations, and stare at Washington Square. But now that finals are only 9 days away, the moments are fleeting. Emily made us a rip-off calendar detailing a day-by-day rundown of remaining projects and other unpleasantries. After reviewing it again, it looks as though tearing off pages of our homemade calendar will be the most excitement I can look forward to until May 5th, 1:50 p.m., when Spring semester ends and we all run out for the time-honored tradition of drinking ourselves silly.
. . . Because future health care advocates need to engage in destructive behavior too, or we wouldn't be able to empathize with George when he crawls to us from Morningside Heights, needing a Sengstaken-Blakemore tube.
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