You can keep them in a jar if you want.

Weird how when you don't do the 1,000 cumulative pages of reading weekly for your lovely classes, the need for doing it does not disappear but instead compounds. So now I definitely must pass my eyes over tens of thousands of pages if I wish to entertain any notion of "passing" this semester. By "passing", I of course mean receiving the highest of marks because let us be frank, my neuroticism requires the pursuit of perfection.

Strange also how the stars align or the conspirators conspire (whichever) to allow remnants of a past to creep out of crevices and echo alarmingly similar accusations against my character. As if I did not spend the last twenty some years of my life perfecting the robotocism of which I have been charged. When will people find emotions inconsequential to their daily functioning, you know, like that one organ people always get taken out or like tonsils. Apparently evolution takes time. Well hurry up.