I don't wanna work

I just wanna bang on my drum all day.

Or maybe start driving to Dorian’s now. Before the wintery mix starts. But I can’t. My advisor rescheduled our usual weekly eight-minute meeting for “sometime later.” This is really starting to try my patience. For the last two weeks, there has been someone else in his office at the scheduled time, so I had to wait. Then this week, just as I was about to collect my notes and knock on his door, he showed up at my desk to say that he had another meeting scheduled, and we’d have to talk later. I don’t ask for much from my advisor. In fact, I don’t ask for anything. I’m perfectly happy to just work away on my own. Occasionally I need him to sign a purchase request form, but that hardly counts. He’s the one who instituted the weekly meetings. He chose the day and the time. And it’s a good plan. He should know what I’m doing, even though he can rarely help me since he says I’m “training myself as a zooplankton ecologist, and that’s not his specialty.” Anyways, since I’ve been assigned 10:00-10:08 on Fridays, I’ve come to expect to actually get that time. And now here I sit, wishing I could start spring break early, knowing that I should be productive, but not doing either. What’s worse, it’s giving me time to continue obsessing over the method for the experiment we’re planning for the summer. I sent my proposed method out to my committee last week. Finally got some feedback this week. Unfortunately, they only pointed out the obvious flaws that I had already decided were not logistically possible to overcome, and did not make any suggestions for fixing them.

The good news is the girl who was offered the summer internship (read Maggie’s personal slave) accepted the position. My stalking efforts finally paid off, and she looks a little frail for a slave, but she’ll definitely do.