I have to start bringing another source of distraction to the lab; a novel that I hate reading is not cutting it anymore. On one hand I want to be done with it so I can start reading something I like, but on the other I don’t want to open it ever again. It is not really that bad, it’s just that I’m still convinced that it wasn’t purely my choice. Every time I look at it I remember how I caved under the pressure of the universe. The universe made me get it and now I’m resisting its force. The universe is such a bully.