Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Der Aktualisierung

After weeks of asking, the husband finally found out he didn't get into uni-of-choice for his PhD. Yesterday he recieved an email saying he would know by the end of the week. Of course, he had just finished sending a rather stern email that basically said "fuck the ego protection -- I want to know if I'm being dumped." The Dear John arrived soon after. Clearly the results were available, so why not just send them? Dumbasses. However, it's nice to know where you won't be living in 4 months time.

I am still trying to write conference papers. I am still plugging away at my exam reading list. I am currently being weaned off an anti-anxiety medication that was raising my blood pressure (and thus upping my anxiety) and fighting off intense hypochondriac impulses (am I having a heart attack? Nope, just need to burp). I am enjoying the spring weather and looking forward to the weekend. I would love to have a pint on a patio -- any takers?
doctor T 6:45 a.m.


I will be more than happy to join you for a pint. Fuck the fuckers, and better luck to your husband next time. And aren't anti-anxiety meds The Bomb?

I have a theory that lit grad students are innately more susceptible to anxiety/depression than most. Why? We spend so much god-damn time in the books, that's why, and all we do is pick apart, criticize, analyze, etc., such that it's impossible not to transfer some of those mad-ass skillz onto ourselves.

Feel better!! :D

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