And I know that I won't stop learning, couldn't without dying on the spot, but I think I'll miss, in this next year-and-a-half before grad school that easy answer, that obvious sign of where my loyalties lie. It has to be this way; I'm terribly burned out, consumed by fire within and without. But I don't have to like it.
"What do you do?"
"Oh, I'm a student."
Maybe I'll keep saying that anyway.