“I need a cookie. And a hug.”
My thoughts upon finishing my physics midterm this afternoon.
In retrospect, perhaps it wasn’t so bad; there were quite a few answers I was sure of. But in spec, it was the kind of difficult that leaves you numb and makes you wonder what the heck you were reading for those four hours of study the previous night, and whether it had to do with the test material at all.
Following said midtorture (not clever; sorry), we walked up to the lab for a planetarium lesson, which so far has been my favorite part of the class. I’ve quickly become fascinated with constellations and stars and their locations amongst the thousands speckling the sky every night. Maybe not enough to make astronomy a hobby, but enough to want to know what I’m seeing when I look up:
Vega of Lyra, Spica of Virgo, Cassiopeia and her husband Cepheus, Deneb of Cygnus, Corona Borealis, Delphinus the dolphin, Regulus of Leo.
In the planetarium, we sit in the dark, necks craned at the dotted dome above us, and listen to the professor as he names each constellation and major star, circling it with a small laser. Then he asks us to name each. I’ve gotten pretty good at this part, mostly because I’m enthralled by the names. There’s a story behind each one, I know, some ancient myth that’s perhaps long forgotten.