My sales pitch

There comes a point in a man's work day where he looks at himself and wonders if he wants to be any more productive. Or at least I like to think that this phenomenon is common to all mankind, and is not just restricted to whiny boywimps. Regardless, this moment struck me around 8:05 (incidentally, this happens to be the same time I sat down at my desk this morning). Oh, allow me briefly to make one thing clear. I am not a nerd. I may be somewhat nerdy. I mean, there is the chemistry, and the video games, and the anime, and the small collection of science books that I read for fun, and the social ineptitude, and the slightly askew sense of humor, and the Star Wars cards, and the irrationally overwhelming fear of rejection. But those are quite minor. See, I got this happy dance and all sorts of sports trophies (ah summer church softball) and loads of girlfriends. Like heaps and piles of them. I can't even keep track of them all, much less their names, or the names of their dolls. They're all really cute though. I hope we get to go see them next week. Espy and I started visiting kids a nearby orphanage. Not sure how I got onto that topic. What was I saying before? Oh right, not a nerd. Definitely. I think I've made a strong enough case already. And for those of you who still aren't convinced, well I give up. Oh, speaking of rejection (well, I spoke of it a couple paragraphs ago; don't rain on my segue parade! I kinda wish I got to go to the Rose Bowl parade. And I kinda wish I had a brother named GOB who rode a Segway. Well so much for smooth. This is turning into one of my worst transitions), speaking of rejection, I got my first piece of medical school admissions hate mail from Mayo. So looks like there is no longer a possibility of me being in Minnesota next year. I'm not sure why I feel at all disappointed by this, but I do, if only slightly. Saturday is Christmas for all of Eastern Orthodoxy, so if you want to join my family for some pogacha and searching through straw for coins (this is mostly for the kiddies) and who knows, maybe a little slivovitz (ok, not really, we don't drink), give them a ring or just show up. And don't worry, it'll still be good wholesome Adventism Sabbatarianism; you aren't going to be asked to kiss icons or anything. Well, my dad might make you swear fealty to Pittsburgh and its sports teams.