One of the last Webex meetings of the day ends at 5 P.M. You stand up and start walking away from computer. A Skype call starts ringing from behind you. It's quick, though. You have fifteen minutes until you give a presentation. Nachos for dinner? Good, you can use up the rest of the leftover beans. Two minutes in the microwave, then you sit down and take a bite. It's good. You burst in to tears. Stop crying! You only have ten minutes and they'll be able to hear your runny nose. This is 2020. This is the future.
My boss telling me, “We write to learn. It's about the journey — not the submission. If we just wanted to publish papers, you would give me the data and I would write the paper,” is one way to make me feel good about the draft getting absolutely roasted for the past two hours.
I just read the disclaimer in Andrej Karpathy's “Guide to Surviving a PhD” (see below) and I would like an immediate refund!
My advisor often reminds his students that we need to continue being careful regarding COVID. I appreciate his diligence and we see eye-to-eye on the matter. However, today I had to send an email that my roommate is 19 — a child with no sense of responsibility — and has no regard for others' welfare. She's gotten me sick. She isn't going to get tested, but now I have to get tested on Monday.
When he wants to go for a walk, he opens the front door and strolls out. I walk through a filthy hallway, through a door, down the stairs, and through another door. When my boss wants to do laundry, he just does it. I walk through a door, through a filthy hallway, through another door, down the stairs (this is where I would check my mailbox), through another door, another hallway, another door, and finally share five machines with over forty other residents. My boss has his groceries delivered to his door. I walk half a mile and carry them back. He has a car for going to work. I take the bus.
The two of us feel the same sense of responsibility: that our own actions and work effect larger trends. As far as 2020 being a trying time — this diligence is a form of patriotism. Putting the virus aside, the more level-headed people are, the faster the economy will recover. When someone suggests that I am not as responsible as my advisor, they do not recognize inherent class differences between our positions.
My roommate works at a daycare. She's still working — why aren't they requiring her to be tested? She's still going out to eat, bowling with friends, and attending large gatherings. This weekend she's letting a guy stay with her (does her boyfriend know) and I would be shocked that she didn't think to mention it to me, but I've established she has no regard for others' welfare. Apparently, she never learned to cover her cough. I've never seen her with a mask. Her cold tonic is one part Nyquil and one part vodka. Today, she dyed her hair and locked me out of the bathroom for two hours with no warning.
It's just like my car situation. Most graduate students don't have a roommate. It's a class difference.
Sunday night, about 11 PM, I sent my advisor the rough draft of a conference paper due November 2nd. We've discussed in the past that my early papers will likely need lots of editing as technical writing is like swimming in choppy water. I woke up, immediately checking my email, to hear this from my advisor: “The draft you sent is very rough. Did you mean this to be an outline for discussion?” What a blow to the ego. To be honest, the whole morning was rough. Around 2 PM, I actually bothered to open the attachment. I had sent him a copy of the outline instead of the draft.
My roommate went home for the weekend to visit her family in the north of the state. Before she left she said there was some confusion on whether they may or may not have COVID — so today could get exciting when she comes back! Anyways, I've been taking care of her kitten; since I work from home this is nothing new, really. She named the kitten “Baby Girl” but I can't bring myself to say that. So I've been calling her Sigrid. Here she is.
The dreaded Skype call came at 12:05 P.M. The results were incomplete. In the conversation, two other projects that I've put on the back-burner came up. Just this morning I decided to keep track of “things I accomplished today” rather than “things I need to complete today.” I'm thinking at 5 P.M. I'll go get a case of cold beer, go back to work, and take a weekend for Thanksgiving. At least the Madame of the house will keep an eye on everything for me.
Anyways, here's another shot of the Madame of 222B
On Friday my boss called me four times between 6 A.M. and 2 P.M. I'm sure it will pick back up tomorrow morning, when he'll be expecting to see some results. My intention was to work all day and have them ready...it's the intention that counts, right? We have a meeting at 3:30 PM tomorrow and I have nothing to show thus far. Maybe tomorrow.
I decided to purchase Pro so that the internet can see pictures of my cat. Maybe even my roommate's cat. 