When I got home today, Kati told me that I have a weird life. It's true. Last week, we stood in the Rite Aid for five minutes listening to the singing fish from the McDonald's commercials and dancing in the aisle for a bewildered local crowd. Now, she's sitting next to me listening to Raffi tapes on YouTube. "I like to eat eat eat apples and bananas ..." I do have a weird life, or maybe I just have a weird roommate. (She just asked me why should could hear geese.)
My track record for today is a little better than yesterday. I got up on time. The downside of that is that I couldn't fall asleep until past 4 a.m. this morning, and around dinner time I was already ready to pass out again. So I didn't get really anything done, and now we're watching Happy Gilmore like real serious productive, professional students. Like Desiree tells me, grad school is a story of barely getting it together at the last minute, because somehow we just can't get ahead. So far, she's been right.
I got an official letter in the mail about my summer program, but I'm still not sure if I'm allowed to talk about it. Here's a hint, though: I'll be in La Jolla. I'll need to get a tan by July.
I've made my selection on a new computer. Although I'd really like to just say fuck it, and only use an iPad for the rest of my career, that I can lose without losing my head, I'll be getting a MacBook Pro (and an external hard drive, this time.) I've learned to lock my door, at least; as my advisor tells me, sometimes it takes a catastrophic event to force us to change our behavior. My behavior has certainly changed, although I can't say it's changed for the rational. I tweeted over to the people at Mozy the other day, asking if I could be their mascot. I'd be a darn cute sob story. They're not buying it yet though, jerks.
And how am I paying for this? I don't think I've mentioned it here yet, but I'm going to be an egg donor. I've already been matched with a couple, and I start treatments in a few weeks. That might make some people uncomfortable, even angry, but the way I see it, I'm helping two people fulfill a dream they can't on their own. Plus, I get a delicious five grand as compensation, which will happily pay for a new computer, clear my credit card debt, and who knows what else. If I can avoid getting a job this summer, giving me all the time in the world to devote to academia, then I will. Now that's what I call being a professional.
My track record for today is a little better than yesterday. I got up on time. The downside of that is that I couldn't fall asleep until past 4 a.m. this morning, and around dinner time I was already ready to pass out again. So I didn't get really anything done, and now we're watching Happy Gilmore like real serious productive, professional students. Like Desiree tells me, grad school is a story of barely getting it together at the last minute, because somehow we just can't get ahead. So far, she's been right.
I got an official letter in the mail about my summer program, but I'm still not sure if I'm allowed to talk about it. Here's a hint, though: I'll be in La Jolla. I'll need to get a tan by July.
I've made my selection on a new computer. Although I'd really like to just say fuck it, and only use an iPad for the rest of my career, that I can lose without losing my head, I'll be getting a MacBook Pro (and an external hard drive, this time.) I've learned to lock my door, at least; as my advisor tells me, sometimes it takes a catastrophic event to force us to change our behavior. My behavior has certainly changed, although I can't say it's changed for the rational. I tweeted over to the people at Mozy the other day, asking if I could be their mascot. I'd be a darn cute sob story. They're not buying it yet though, jerks.
And how am I paying for this? I don't think I've mentioned it here yet, but I'm going to be an egg donor. I've already been matched with a couple, and I start treatments in a few weeks. That might make some people uncomfortable, even angry, but the way I see it, I'm helping two people fulfill a dream they can't on their own. Plus, I get a delicious five grand as compensation, which will happily pay for a new computer, clear my credit card debt, and who knows what else. If I can avoid getting a job this summer, giving me all the time in the world to devote to academia, then I will. Now that's what I call being a professional.
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