I have a pile of flu medicine packets

I have a pile of flu medicine packets on my dresser (courtesy of XB, the all-round helper) and a jumble of symbols in my head - vx, vy, x1, x2, P, U, V, F.

No matter. I'll get back to doing the last problem on the textbook. Perhaps after tomorrow, all the restlessness in my soul will go away like recovering from a major illness.

美人

不知道从哪里记下来的一句话:

“美人以花为貌，以月为神，以鸟为声，以柳为态，以玉为骨，以冰雪为肤，以秋水为姿，以诗词为心。”

Of all the qualities mentioned a crucial one is missing. Youth. Without that it's tough to be a 美人 by any standard. You could achieve all of that and create a moment of eternity in your life, a picture of beautiful and wisdom, the fuzzy and frozen picture that always appears in your dream. But then you'll have to end yourself, or even eternity melts into air.

After getting its inevitable dose of soaking in rain, my organizer subsequently suffered spillings of milk and soup on itself. Now it smells like "Chinese food" (If you live in US, say those 2 words to yourself and imagine the aroma they give rise to.).

Here I am in Stanford, using an organizer and living a newish scary sort of life among people whom I've never known. How could it be that after two cycles of twelve years I've only just started to feel inadequate, insecure and stressed for the first time? Or is it strange that I should think so? All these activities might be taking me away from or bringing me closer towards building my picture of eternity. I have no way of telling...