Throwing Darts at Monkeys
One in a series of old Love Letters that I bought at the flea market and am now transcribing for my nosiest friends.
See the archive for every Love Letter to Karen published thus far.
Hell week at school for Russ leads to another short letter.
October 19, 1960
Hi Sweetheart,
Half of this bloody week is gone. The other can’t be any worse and I’ve made it so far.
We shot darts at monkeys today in Physics lecture (or rather the lecturer did), among other things. Some of the other things were observing a stream of water and shooting a little ball out of a cannon and catching it again. (The monkeys, incidentally, were stuffed.)
Oh, thank god.
This is a college-level course. These demonstrations probably cost a small fortune in initial expense. I wonder who the guy is that does nothing but sit around and devise all these complicated pieces of demonstration equipment? I’ll bet the instructors have a ball playing with all these little toys. No doubt that’s all they do because none of them can teach.
That grind from 8:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. is bad. I only had 20 min. to eat lunch and breakfast was nonexistent. Tomorrow is a little lighter in comparison, but not much. Have to do a little studying for a while. Will continue later.
Here I am again, back from the foreign wars, i.e., my Physics text and my dish. If this exam continues the precedent set by my math and chem exams I’m in real trouble because I’m not that well prepared for this one.
Am I going to relax when this week is over. This has been the worst to date. It shocks me. It can’t get any worse, I’m sure. I kept getting sleepy in classes today. I don’t think about the time between the hour I went to bed and the hour I wake up anymore. I just force myself out of bed when the alarm goes off, and go to class.
Speaking of sleep. Some of it I must get tonight. Sorry to rush off so quickly.
Good night, sweetheart. Will see you soon.
Love and kisses,
Always,
Russ
At this point, I think it’s fair to say Russ sounds pretty depressed?