My Psych final took 20 minutes. I got ~85% on it, which lowered my grade to 94.6%. I'm almost tempted to feel ashamed, if not for the fact that Psychology sucks ass. I think my GPA's now 3.77ish? 3.8? Something like that. An Official Decree: if you want to take a disgustingly simple, worthless class, take Psychology. If you respect yourself--and your intelligence--take something more worthwhile. Like, y'know, English. Or Anthropology. (Let's see how many people I can insult in one paragraph!)
Amongst the studying, I also managed to break my month-long drought: I read The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie (8/10) and reread The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd (9/10), The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia A. McKillip (6/10), and The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (7/10). TGG wasn't as good as I remembered it to be. How depressing is that?
So my financial aid was "revised" and, uh, apparently I don't have to work to keep my scholarships? That's news to me. I'm still going to work, since I need the money and it's not like I'll be doing anything better at 2am every night next semester anyway.