Chapter 8
I successfully defended my dissertation based on another of my formulas, and at twenty-five, I brought home my PhD from MIT. I took out a patent on this formula also, and I became wealthy beyond dreams of avarice…
It would have been pretty awesome if my life turned out like that, wouldn’t it? Only that wasn’t how it went.
The “knock on my noggin” did more than futz with my short-term memory; it shorted the neuron paths in my brain completely. I didn’t realize it right away, of course. My senior year was a breeze, and if I’d suddenly found it a little difficult retaining what had previously come so easily to me, I put it down to “senioritis” and told no one about it.