See that diagram? It's a cross section of the thorax. I *loathe* cross sections.

So, tomorrow there's a quiz. I studied every day last week in anticipation of this quiz. I put in the hours, made the sacrifices. It was grand. I felt so on top of my shit. Part of my motivation: I wanted to go to Miami for the weekend. So I did. It was an amazing break, much needed, well deserved. I studied a bit while there, but not nearly enough. I got back to the swampland, donned my neatly folded (thanks mom) scrubs, and boldly walked into the anatomy lab. Ten minutes later I bolted out of there, with an overwhelming fear that I had bitten off more than I could chew. Or is it bit off? No time for grammar! I should be studying or sleeping. But first, I must throw a small blog pity party about how much more I should have studied this weekend.

I sacrificed study time for fun time, and I'm kind of tempted to say it was well worth it. I mean, I can't let med school be EVERYTHING. As the med schoolers say, P=MD. What that means is PASS = MD, as in, all you need to do is pass to become a doctor.

If you happen to want to be, oh, let's say, a plastic surgeon, then this law doesn't apply. But I most definitely don't want to be a plastic surgeon, or a dermatologist, or an orthopedic surgeon, so I don't have to worry too much.

But I still have my pride! And, who knows? I might change my mind 8 million times and end up choosing a mega-competitive specialty. My crappy GPA will cause me to be rejected or force me to live somewhere awful... and why? Not because I couldn't do it, but because I chose to go to Miami and hang out at the beach and see my friends and eat delicious food and...

Oh f*** it. It was totally worth it!