'D' is for Diploma

.... which, apparently I'm still eligible for despite this depressing episode in my academic career. Ehhh... went into the final with a C+... came out with a D.
One might say I boned the final.
Of course, who's to say that an MIT degree is a guarantee against homelessness in any case? As of noon tomorrow, I'll be living out of a few cardboard boxes and a suitcase thanks to the asbestos abatement process that Random Hall's going to be undergoing this summer. And who's to say that cardboard-box-dwelling denizens don't deserve a good deal of respect? I'll say I gained a newfound respect for bums this morning when I dragged three enormous cardboard boxes all the way to Central from Alewife via T. Luckily, Steph was able to meet me at the T stop and mock my woefully short asian arms all the way down Mass Ave. Good company for the walk back to Random, to be sure. Sadly after all that work, I discovered three boxes wasn't nearly enough to pack each and every last bit of "buried treasure" I've amassed over the course of a year. Alas.

Suffice to say, after my little D is for Diploma incident and afternoon of extended manual labor, my fridge went under a little abatement process of its own - a beer abatement, that is.

Further bulletins as events warrant.