Uhhhh. . .I don’t know what’s worse: My full stomach, the fact that I know in complete anatomic and physiological detail what is going on inside my stomach (thank you chapter 23 and 24), Co’s crap-tastic filled diaper that surely awaits as a result of today’s lunch, or the overwhelming urge to just say, “Whatever, man,” at the mountain of notes, diagrams and textbooks waiting for me at the kitchen table — yes, we all know that is not going to happen, but it feels good to talk trash about it.

*sigh* Darn you, Moe’s Southwest Grill!! I hate to love you!