Many things have happened since I posted last.
I studied a lot.
I finished school. All A's again this semester, which won't make up for the two uncharacteristic B's that wrecked my perfect GPA last semester.
Came to the realization that I am, once again, a college sophomore. Am I ever getting out of here?
I got sick.
I got very sunburned.
I went in the outdoor pool, which was like ice (that's where I got sunburned).
I recertified at work.
A lady used the word "behoove" at a show last night.
In case you're wondering, I'm still sick and sunburned. I've been sick for a week and it won't go away. I skipped church this morning. I never skip church.
Oh. I also started taking fish oil.
Let me tell you about the fish oil. You already read this post, so you know that I'm sort of suspicious when it comes to fish. I'm suspish of fish. Fish suspish.
Uhh, yeah, anyway, my art teacher told me that if I took fish oil it might help the months-old rashes I've got on my elbows. I mentioned this to my mom in passing, and she shocked me by unveiling a jug of fish oil pills she had hidden away somewhere. I couldn't get out of it then, so I had to take the stuff.
Without delving too deeply into how my art teacher was right, that stuff is weird. If you smell the inside of the bottle you smell... fish. And as you may remember from the tuna post, I felt like I was eating an entire tuna when I had the albacore stuff. Well, with this stuff, I feel like I'm imbibing an entire fishing boat. Although I doubt fishing boats go down quite so quickly.
I've never eaten a real fishing boat. This is all just conjecture.
But they're big, man. I don't know how many fish they had to squeeze to get all that oil out, but I would not want to be the undertaker in charge of that job. Even if I liked fish. Even if I absolutely loved and adored fish, dead or alive, I would not want to be the undertaker heading up the burial of those sacrificed fish bodies.
The rash is better though. So that's cool.