I am stupid

So far this week, I...

1. picked UCLA to beat Duke,
2. claimed that I wanted to be "the Amelia Earhart of neurobiology,"
3. exploded small tubes of glass all over a table and wiped them up with my bare hands,
4. cried over a boy (Although estrogen can probably take the fall for this craptasm),
   
5. LOL'ed a Friends episode,
6. watched a For The Love Of Ray J marathon,
7. managed to ruin hummus,
8. and forgot my umbrella after obsessing over the hour-by-hour forecast for ten minutes one morning.

The list goes on, but it's just depressing to think of how incompetent I am at living my own life.

I don't think #2 is that bad... imagine if one day you simply vanished into a hippocampal wonderland of place cells, AMPA receptor trafficking, and neurotransmitter playgrounds. That's where good neurobiologists go when they die. (Bad neuroscientists have to hang out with Carl Jung.)