I'm slowly making progress on my "Proud to be a Robot" short story. I would be thrilled by my progress and enthusiastic about the final product - it's an interesting idea, and I'd love to see an halfway competent writer take it on - if it was all I had to work on. But I'm sure either the quality of this story or the duration of my sleep over the next few days will take a severe hit to make time for the two other papers. *Sigh* why does the most interesting class have to be the most low-pressure one? I wish I could devote even more time to this thing I actually care about than to the extremely hard statistics class and the incomprehensible philosophy class.
In addition to Katye and my bargain with her, and also my ex-girlfriend who was opposed to it while we were going out, several other people on the hall have encouraged me to stop smoking. It's unsettling that so many people care about me and my well-being. It's touching and humbling that people are expressing true interest that I stop a self-destructive behavior, especially considering that, when you get right down to it, I barely know some of them. In fact, it's a little sad that I'm so confused by a simple heartfelt effort to help me.
Then again, maybe they're just being annoying and meddlesome. I haven't decided yet.