Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else

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An Entry From A Productive Student

some time ago, Stan confessed his feelings to me. We came to the conclusion that because of the circumstances that surround our existence (oh wow, I'm on crack!), we cannot be together. OH hell, just click on the link!

After that little chat, I became less needy for our interactions (after all, I got what I wanted: him admitting he had feelings for me). Oh, and my bare-hands-bear-killing-man does NOT like that! He finds every little excuse to talk to me... it's adorable actually. It's adorable that this 6'4" dude would try so hard for this 5'1.5" girlie. OH SO ADORABLE! ... throw up.

Eitherway. I was missing some of my chemicals (glucose=sugar, and yeast invertase) for the lab I am teaching, and thus I became a frequent visitor to the stockroom to check on the status on my order. Nothing came for me today. Tear.

Done with everything I could possibly do as an ever-so-productive (lie) grad student, I was ready to leave. I turned towards the door, only to see him standing in my office door with a box.
He: "Is that you?" He shoves a box in my face exposing my name on it.
Me: "?!?! YES!!?!"
He: "You are welcome."
Me: "Why... you??"
He: "They ... gave it to me." (LIE!)
I examine the box.
Me: "Shit, I need to refrigerate it, and I have no fridge."
He: "It's cold out. Put it in your bag. Should be fine."

And he leaves.

Uhm. What just happened there?
Why in the world did he just steal my chemicals just to hand-deliver them to me? Is he torturing me in some weird sick way?
Also, the 800-sheets of papers that I found neatly stacked on my office desk... it was his work. He copied them for me. What a trooper.

10:26 p.m. - January 12, 2009

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