Misplaced priorities

Indomethacin, isoniazid, methaqualone, metronidazole, misonidasole, n-hexane, nitrofurantoin, parathion, pentachlorophenol, perhexiline, phenytoin, stilbamidine, streptomycin, sulphanilamide, triorthocresylphosphate…

I groan as I bury my face in my hands. I’m absolutely sure I’ll NEVER get those names straight. At least, not in time for the exam tomorrow. I mean, come on!!! Triorthocresylphosphate? Which reasonable person would expect a poor, tired and worn out (anti-chemistry) student like me to remember such stuff?

It’s nearly 3 a.m. I can’t even read my own handwriting anymore. My bed seems to glow softly, invitingly, with a strange kind of iridescence. I then realize it’s my eyes- everything’s a little blurry. I rub my tired eyes frantically and squint at my notes, pushing myself to study. But even as I scan the first line, my fingers creep towards my mobile, all of their own accord. I tell myself, no. I try to pull myself together and do what I’m supposed to do- STUDY!

But it’s too late. The mobile’s in my hand, my disobedient fingers have already typed out an SMS, ‘Up?’, and sent it to half a dozen people. In the next 60 seconds, my phone buzzes thrice. Three friends awake at this ungodly hour. I wonder why. I ask them. There, I’ve started three conversations now.

Quite in vain, I try to juggle SMSes, studies and music. No luck. It dawns on me that I’ve read the same sentence 6 times, without taking in a word of it. A few minutes later, my phone rings. Actually rings. I frown; I never get calls, let alone at 3 in the morning. Perplexed, I look down at that accursed, yet adored phone, to see a much loved name flashing on the screen, little hearts popping all around (both on the screen and in my head :P). I smile, albeit a little guiltily. With a sigh, I snap my book closed, give up trying to organize my incoherent thoughts and resign myself to the inevitable… I reach for the phone.

Triorthocresyl-whatever will have to wait till morning.