My feelings about today are nicely summarized by this fish:
For the bionerds among us, that’s Psychrolutes marcidus AKA the blobfish. Recently voted World’s Ugliest Fish.
The sad truth is that I have to take three physics courses to get my degree. Fortunately, my school’s physics profs are unreasonably fantastic. One is a circus freak/performer and cat fanatic; the rest are just hilarious in general.
The prof I have this semester is a tiny guy with a weaselly face who looks no older than 17. He has a bone-dry twisted sense of humor. He makes non-Newtonian fluids interesting by showing us videos like this:
The downside of physics – well, it’s physics. And then there’s the Quiz Room (“the place dreams go to die”).
We have five physics quizzes, each worth ten percent. Instead of writing them in class, we go to this room that resembles a battery chicken farm. An overworked TA scans your student card and directs you to a carrell, where you have twenty minutes to write your quiz. The marking scheme is crazy: if you get 4 or less out of 10, it’s a zero. If you get 4 to 7.5 marks, that’s a 20%. An 8 or above counts as 100%.
There’s no better feeling than sailing out of the quiz room after scoring 100%. You think, “I’m a physics genius! Einstein ain’t got nothing on me.” All common sense suppressed, you don’t realize that this is just physics for physics-impaired bio kids. It’s a natural high.
If you get anything but the 100%, you crawl out and look for some place to cry.
I passed my quiz this morning, so the world looks like a pretty good place right now. CERN, if you’re recruiting, I might deign to work for you. Call me.
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