Let the idiot entertain

Oh man - have you ever had a rough day? Have you ever had a day so rough that you go to bed to get away from it? Have you ever had the shittiness follow you like a sickness? So you wake up and it has only gotten worse? It has actually carried over to the next day? It's getting to the point of hilarity, which it's why it's going to get on the blog - so at least you can benefit from it, because I am not.

Let's start with yesterday. Apart from the weather, very infuriating day. I had a fantastic presentation the day before (I thought) so I was feeling good about myself. I decided to stay o the ball and graph this section of the experiment the way my supervisor wanted. We were both curious in seeing the outcome. So I did it and I sent it off. I got a terse, angry reply that a) he had no idea what I was graphing (I guess the title wasn't enough), b) it meant nothing alone, it had to be compared to some other section of the experiment (okay, but I still think it showed something by itself), c) 'as a graduate student' I should be drawing conclusions about my own data, simply sending an excel file is 'just not enough'. As if I just graph things and send them off without thinking about them. I didn't think we were having an internet conference, I thought I could just send it and we could chat about it later. Infuriating. So I added the second graph, resent. Another terse reply. Here's what you need: (list of seven separate excel sheets, all with different graphs and different data), we have to meet (how about tomorrow at 11?) before you can start the experiment and go over this (third time I've heard this threat). So I sat back down. This was annoying. Every time I thought I did something right it was thrown back in my face with a list of more things to do and a small deriding about how what I did was not good enough. What a buzz kill. By the time I got to the seven page excel file I decided I'd had enough, I sat and watched YouTube for a bit. I had amotivational syndrome. I did NOT feel like doing anything, including making dinner. I was depressed. I know I took it hard, but it was just bad timing. I was a lone all day and nothing was going as planned. Then Derek got home and I made myself feel a bit better, we had conversations about completely unrelated subjects. I then brought up tobogganing but told him I'd asked Frankie already and she had to pack up to go home. Well, Frankie had had an unknown change of heart, so she called to see if he wanted to go, but by that time he'd gotten it in his head because of me that it wasn't happening, so he decided to do homework. That fit with the 'false hope' theme of the day. . . I decided I'd finish the excel file and send it off, which I did. At this point I was sick and tired of this, so I decided to send off the email for the porchclimber party which we are having. Here it is, if you can read it you're invited:

> How can you ignore a subject line like that? In fact, I think it may get me
> into the junk mail folder. . .
>
> Oh well
>
>
>
> Maybe I'll send out another email about that.
>
>
>
> Well, I think that subject line says it all, so all you need now is a date.
> December 15th, it's happening. If you want to come (your house is invited
> too) please let me know. I need names so we know how much to buy. It's
> going to be $10. Give me a vote also on if you want to go out after or
> party here, and we will adjust the start time accordingly. $10 to predrink
> is a damned steal. In fact the way these things usually go you won't need
> any more after that!
>
>
>
> Let's kick off the beginning of the holidays and kick the exams in the face.
> Let's be friends, come to our party.
>
>
>
> -Marcus, Derek and Graeme

What was the subject line? PORCHCLIMBERS MOTHERFUCKER

the most obnoxious subject I have ever written. I wanted it to grab attention.

I'd had enough of Thursday, December the Seventh, 2006. I went to sleep. Want to know how I woke up? It could have been a movie. I actually have never woken up in any way like this before.

I was walking throught the woods with a girl. At the edge of the wood there was a meadow, it was autumn. At the edge of the meadow grew those plants with the burrs all over them, as they do in life. We picked them and studied them, talking about what a neat adaptation they have and how this must be how velcro was conceived of. I pointed out that she had a couple stuck to her hood, as I stuck a couple to her hood. She threw a handful at me, which I ducked. We laughed, we ran, we chased, and in the classic way of these things we ended up on the ground, kissing. They were the kind of kisses you knew had been a long time in coming, like something you've wanted to tell a person but never had the courage to. With my eyes closed I heard her say "Will it still be like this when we're together?" I didn't know if I'd heard right, that is a strange thing to say. With the words "of course" poised on my lips, I opened my eyes to see her face, and all I saw was my pillow in front of my face suffocating me, with the disorienting sensation of sleep and sunlight in my face. I scowled. What a kick in the pants.

I got up and put on a pot of oatmeal, fired the old rig to see what emails awaited. I wanted to go back to bed. Two emails, one from Lindsay one from Derek, both asking the same question: "Did you mean to invite your supervisor to the party? That would be hilarious if he came!"

I checked my 'sent folder'. He was in the list of recipients. I guess i was pretty used to sending him emails by late last night.

I wanted to go back to bed. Still do.

We have to meet at 11 to go over my data.

I feel nauseous.