I hear a lot about how little professors work. I can't complain that the summer "off" and lax hours during the school year aren't great, but my dream job is really an Olympic sprinter.
You know, that would be the life: only having to work ten seconds every four years.
I gave up trying to explain to people what my dad did years ago and just use the stock phrase - he works for the university. And yet the man manages to work 60-70 hours a week 12 months a year.
Sometimes late at night I break into song. And in recognition of that whole it's - really - too - late - for - anyone - to - expect - me - to - be - rational thing, I typically preface my musical rendition with, "That reminds me of a song...and it goes a little something like this."
And so, when the mood strikes me, or the hour is late enough ;) , here is where I'll break into the silly songs of my childhood, the pseudo-intellectual ramblings of my grad student-hood, the haphazard mutterings of my single-hood, the philosophical musings of my female-hood, the inspirational babblings of my human-hood, the frazzled sputterings of my junior high French teacher-hood.
So world, this is me. These are my thoughts, this is my life. And it goes a little something like this...
2 comments:
I hear a lot about how little professors work. I can't complain that the summer "off" and lax hours during the school year aren't great, but my dream job is really an Olympic sprinter.
You know, that would be the life: only having to work ten seconds every four years.
I gave up trying to explain to people what my dad did years ago and just use the stock phrase - he works for the university. And yet the man manages to work 60-70 hours a week 12 months a year.
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