It's day four of work+school and I ache in the most amazing places. I'm blaming my Volleyball phys ed requirement, which on paper is an easy 50-minute class for an entertaining sport but in reality is a twice-weekly lesson in pain. Somehow, spending yesterday's class trotting after my runaway volleyball was the catalyst for making me feel like I've been running an Olympic marathon. At the end of the semester, though, it'll at least be nice to be able to say that there's a sport I can play. Theoretically.

Being back on campus so much has reminded me how unfairly attractive Georgians are. It's simply written into their DNA that they'll have the perfect proportions, tan easily, look great even when sweaty, and exude comfortable Southern charm. And then there's me with, if my family's any indication, a fun-filled future of baldness, heaviness, impotence and neuroses (got that base covered early). Ain't Judaism the best? How on earth have we been finding mates for thousands of years?

On the bus home an obviously destitute man was talking to the driver about how, despite his circumstances, he still knows God has a plan for him and will protect and provide for him. So where was God for those 3,000+ people dying 10,000+ people still dying in the heat wave in France-- taking a bathroom break? And the babies being born with AIDS in Africa to soon-dying parents, and the millions of people living in shantytowns on the outskirts of Mexico City, and the innocent civilians being bombed in the Middle East because they happened to leave their homes-- where is God for them? I guess he's half-right, though. God did provide us with something: it's called autonomy. Stop waiting around for a blessing or a miracle and make something happen in your life. Once you've done that, you can even feel free to thank God for all your hard work.

Dan's mom has come down from NYC to stay for the weekend; I only remembered this because they just walked in the door. Time to go play nice.