So last night I dreamt that I visited my old lab and my former boss was standing in the hallway eating dates. Her funding had been cut in half so she was carrying folders of grant applications under one arm. When she saw me she smiled like she knew something I didn't and asked, "How's it going?"
We walked silently down to her office, and she periodically spit date pits into a cup, like it was tobacco juice. "So," when we finally stopped outside her door, "When are you getting back into a program?"
I knew she was asking if I was going to stop wasting my life and go back to school. I felt like I might cry or hit her but instead I just said, "Why would you even ask me that?"
"Come on," she started, "we all know you just gave up."
"Just because I didn't follow the tenure track you think I'm a failure? " I sputtered.
She opened her mouth but I cut her off. "For your information, I'm very happy in my position. I'm making a difference."
"Are you?" she asked. "Well," and she paused to spit a final pit into the cup and set it down. "I guess that's that isn't it?"
No comments:
Post a Comment