I'm mad at Rick Cheek right now, because last week he decided, in order to not lose 10 lateness points off the project, to present his presentation on seed plant evolution even though he was thoroughly unprepared and bullshat his way through the material, which means that I have no knowledge of the material he was supposed to teach me to pass the biology test tomorrow. And he was bragging afterwards how he got away with a good grade on it even though he hadn't been ready at all.

Of course, it's not Rick's fault, because like all of us, Rick sees himself as the protagonist in the Great Story of His Life. We are all heroes of our life story, and we perceive every say as a battle for our own personal goal, a battle that we may think we're winning or losing. Don't we all believe that we're all basically good, and that we deserve happiness, and that nobody understands our strife? Isn't my life story the most important one of all?

Meanwhile, I need to get back into exercising. I did a set of two bench presses that I thought were going to crush the Coca-Cola-phosphorus-eaten bones in my arms, but I felt better than I have in weeks. Yay for endorphins!