an interlude
My mind is messy. I need to vent. Or something.
I have been fussing over a cover letter which seems to be forever. I loathe these things. I loathe silly papers with perfect outlines and bullet points that are supposed to make the best impression on people and make them want to say "yes i want her." I hate it.
I went to a career counselor. She was pretty useless. But somehow whenever you visit someone who is supposed to know shit about careers, and even though they might not, it still helps you feel better. Because you went. And this lady talked to me about how she worked in an alzheimer’s ward and she laughed at how horrible the experience was. Near the end of the meeting she asked, "What are you strengths?" And i swear it was just silence in my head. Or maybe some sort of fancy circus music hummed along.
I fail. In listing my strengths. Which ulitmately means, Im so fucked for interviews. The worst question in the world "So why should we hire you?"
Umm.
Im awesome.
Yeah.
I told Jess Id go visit her and her kitten today but its cold and i dont feel like spending 10 bucks on a train. Plus, my cover letter is not done and Id be a bad person if i went to have fun without finishing what I need to do.
For some odd reason, I really have been enjoying having the apartment for myself here at Brandeis. Nakedness happens. Although not too much because its starting to get cold and even though I have the heat on 85, it is probably like 65.
Aliza came over last night, and something is really off between us. She used her usual sad tone right before she left about how I never make the effort to go visit her. And. I wish I could explain it to her. That I am not the same person that I was freshman year. Ive learned the power of saying no, when it is hazardous to my health and academics. With my routine of coming home at 6pm almost every day, tired as all hell with plethora of homework to do…there is no way in hell im going to shlep 10 minutes to hang out with Aliza where she talks more than she listens.
I visited the mail man to send something and well, it just made my day. It was sunny and bitterly cold but i smiled nonetheless. And the mailman, with his big glasses and his graying moustache and bold smile is just so wonderful. He sings! He has performed at a couple coffee houses. And he is just so happy all the time. You feel like your packages and letters are in good hands. And he wishes you a good day, as if he means it. And. He always makes me smile silly.
Its people like the mail man, who make me realize that not all humanity is lost. It is people like him that i admire.
Sheryl Crow is singing, "Strong Enough" on my headphones. And it makes me think about what i want in a man. While walking today, I remembered Maribel once telling me how playful she and her husband are in bed. They battle over making the other one happy. And I realized that maybe thats what i really need. I need a man who is just as giving as i am. We will compete over giving. Mmm.
I need to send Eve an email. Eve is the 10 year old, with whom I hung out with last week. She throws hissy fits as if she is 13 and 2 all at the same time. And over nothing. She has trouble with popularity at school. She is one of the top chess players in the US so you can imagine shes not one of the cool kids. I talked with her and told her that I sympathize with her. She was doing chess worksheets and I dont even know if she heard my stories. I know I cant exactly cure everything in her life and make everything perfect. But Ive decided to hopefully become some sort of advisor.
Eve’s mom allowed her to email with me. So maybe if Eve vents to me, we will know better what is going on at school. I want to be her role model. I know that sounds silly and completely outrageous. But. I think in some ways, she looks up to me. And she knows I love her.
We’ll see if i can make a difference in this world, with one person.
there are people who want to change the world. They forget the Starfish story
Starifsh story will always remind me of Jack. He sent it to me once in the form of Jack Radio. Now four years later, I can almost still hear his calm voice resonate in my ears. Oh Jack. I can try to write dozens of letters, and they still wont be able to say what i want to tell him.
Its horrible but I still read his xanga. And. Ugh.
Andres had left an unfinished box of Froot Loops. Ive been consuming too much of them. And also the Dulce de Leche. Which is basically this tub of Argentenian Caramel. Omg. So good. Ive been eating it by the spoonful.
My parents bought me this long black winter coat. I look like Sexy Lady in it.
I ordered Where the Sidewalk Ends on Amazon. Im so excited for it to come. Shel Silverstein poems can be read at any age. I can appreciate them in a different way now. They hold philosophical wisdom in short spurts.
Opa! Allison called and invited me to make spongecake with her. This is what I love about life. No need to make plans. Go with the flow and you’ll be happy.
I had a klutzy Elina moment. I havent had one of those in a long time. Today the moment consisted of shaving off a part of my left index finger. Who would have thought a razor could peel off so much meat off a finger?
My thesis is pretty much in the sewer right now. Im happily in denial about it. Bob basically said that he sees no point in altering the stimulus. Or running more subjects for that matter. What are my options? Tailing a grad or post doc with their experiment which sucks because it means researching something completely new and different and not having something of my own. And of course there is the non real option of quitting and dropping neuro honors thesis. Hell no. Even if i fail. Im going to see this thing through the end.
Right now Im waiting for my other thesis advisor to email me back. He said we should meet when I am on campus. I am on campus. Just to meet with him. And I emailed him. And. GAH! I hate it when professors are lethargic in their emailing. My thesis is at a standstill until I meet with him and hear what he says. And im sure he will be happily optomistic. He is Derek. He is all bright and happy. The complete anti thesis of Bob.
I should go back to working on my cover letter. Bahumbug. Im not even sure if i want the volunteering job at Mcleans hospital. I did more research on it and I have an inkling that my volunteering will be in the hospital and not with research. I prefer research. I also found out that this Mclean is famous. Anne Sexton was hospitalized there. As well as the woman who wrote Girl Interrupted. Ill meet future famous writers? Ha!
Its so funny how so much goes into a dumb cover letter. It really is.
Warning Comment
sometimes, if I don’t REALLY want the job but I’ll take it, I’ll answer “You should hire me because I’m awesome.”
Warning Comment
Ah, where the sidewalk ends. *happy sigh* And, while she might have thought that working in an Alzheimers ward was horrible…I can attest to the fact that it doesn’t have to be that way. I work (volunteer) in one, and its honestly the highlight of my entire week! Not sure if that was relevant to anything, but oh well. Haha. Much Love, Katie
Warning Comment
you’ve been zinged. shortform, but zinged nonetheless.
Warning Comment