School has started once more.

Highlights for today include finding out that the class I'm TAing is almost entirely made up of students who are older than me, including a fair number of Ph.D. students, and finding out that the computer music course I'm taking is being taught by a short, curly-haired woman from Israel who sounds exactly like Dr. Ruth. So it's almost like taking a course with Dr. Ruth, except that instead of talking about sex, she's talking about the structure and representation of musical concepts.

Meanwhile, since when do I have common sense? I was known for most of my life as the smart kid with no common sense. But I'm going to the bank today to finally change the address on my account, when this little voice in the back of my head says, "You might need a proof of address. Take the signature slip from your lease."

"Who the hell are you?" I ask it.

"I'm your common sense. Better take an old cable bill, too - it's your mom's name on the lease."

The process went without a hitch, however, and no proof of address was required. I also deposited the cash Dad had given me for my birthday. On my way out of the bank, I'm thinking about how the bank might use my money to invest in some struggling business and put food in the mouths of some enterprising entrepreneur's children.

"Or, more likely, it might invest in some big weapons manufacturing company, indirectly causing the deaths of thousands of third-world civilians," suggests the voice.

"You know what?" I relpy. "I don't think I like you."