There has to be something poetic about wearing university sweatpants at the same time as a seventh grade t-shirt. Have you ever felt like that girl? You know, the stupid one? She is sort of flirty and sort of silly, even though she displays an aptitude during class. She has difficulty understanding even the most rudimentary of concepts regarding social interaction, let alone putting them into practice. And, you know, it's not that I'm afraid I've become her... it's just the questions that I must now work through, eventually leading to a conclusion, please Lord.

This moment of recognition may just be a symptom of reading Plato, or maybe of living. But I fear that I have neglected a core portion of my morality: that is to say, when and where did I form morals? "The Bible" isn't the whole answer here, but wouldn't that be nice? Where does my work ethic come from? Am I patriotic? Those questions alone are enough to keep me thinking for several weeks. Unfortunately, those were only from one of my four probing classes. Who knew higher thinking could be so draining?