Sono piena come un'ouvo

Okay, you say that in Italia when you're stuffed from a yummy dinner.
But in this case it's my brain talking. My gray matter is completely saturated with knowledge (?) and I'm done studying for the week. Fortunately, it's my last week of class. I'm not being insubordinate. I'm not being an idiot (okay, that might be debatable). I'm not setting a bad example for incoming Dardenites. I'm just applying some athlete logic. You know when enough is enough. Your workouts are not doing you any good. You go out and ride "junk miles". That's what studying feels like to me.
Pull the pin and do something else instead of forcing the issue. If you're not careful you'll grow to hate the very thing you pursue. It happened with me in bike racing. I don't want it to happen at B-Skool.
I will go through the motions and read the rest of my cases this week. Extra effort beyond the usual 4 hours of case reading and notations will not be tolerated. On days when I feel ambitious, I can spend hours and hours trying to absorb new knowledge.
This old dog (insert "bitch" joke here) is done learning new tricks for the week, so I am listening to Harry Potter and his Deathly Hallows. It's quite entertaining, especially since Jim Dale has to exercise a range of 30 voices in his reading. Now that's talent. I can just imagine how frustrated his wife was with his practicing. It's like living with a schizophrenic.
I apologize to Mom and Dad for slacking off and announcing my fed-uppedness with studying to the 7 people who read my blog. But at least they are not financing my education; so I feel a bit less guilty.
In other news, this past weekend was a reminder of how foreign it feels to jump back into the life I left.
This is what bike racers do:
You huddle around the computer watching the live-feed of the AT&T Tour de Georgia. Scintillating.You watch pre-race time trial heats to determine call-ups at Athens Twilight. At least I'm not up there suffering. You see beautiful vistas on forgotten highways en route to the next race.

You get to see your sorority house in every University town (and it is pimpin at UGA):
You engage in self-portraiture-while-driving (This is my pensive barrista look).
You find humor in dinosaurs and art in an assemblage of metal barriers.
But I can't say I miss it.