For those of you who haven't been checking in, or don't read the comments, I didn't pass my comps. Of course, they're too nice to come out and say that I "failed." Instead, they're putting their decision "in suspension" until I revise everything and we meet again in a few months, but that's just a nice way of saying "you're a dumbfuck." So much for my earlier statement that "one way or another it's going to be over with tomorrow." Obviously I'm upset about it. Not upset enough to go suck on a shotgun lollipop (I learned a long time ago that I wouldn't have the balls to end it all even if I wanted to), but upset enough that I'm posting this at an ungodly hour because I've got nothing else to do but sleep, and that's just not going to happen. Not right now anyway.
One thing that really bothers me about it is that I did know the answers to some of the questions they were asking, it's just that I couldn't think of them when they were asking them. It's a problem with me. I'm never very good at reacting to things when I'm put on the spot because my brain just kind of shuts down any time I demand information from it. (I go through the same thing when playing at trivia night. Sure, I can sing you all the lyrics to a Skid Row song that I haven't heard since I was 14 (and frankly, am quite embarrassed that I ever listened to such crappy music), but if you ask me the title of the album, and need to know it RIGHT THEN, I'm not the guy to come through.) In fact, it occurred to me that I was more nervous standing in front of my committee trying to answer questions than I was the time I was trespassing in northern Nevada and a guy came out with a loaded shotgun in one hand and a beer in the other.
The other thing that kills me is my pride. I didn't go to work yesterday, and probably won't on Monday. Everyone knows that I took my comps, so that means that everyone's going to be asking me how it went, and I'm going to have to explain to them that I'm the only fucking grad student in the recent history of our department to not pass his comprehensive exams. And that says a LOT because there are some really stupid people around here (note - if you're reading this, you're probably not included in that statement). I just didn't think I was one of them until now.
On another note, one of my friends was coming down with a cold the other day, so on our way back to the office from lunch he asked if I'd mind stopping at CVS so he could buy some cold medicine. Since all it required was that I turn into a parking lot right then I did, because I'm cool like that.
When we walked in the door he said "I'll take one of all the ingredients necessary to make meth."
Me: "Well, I guarantee at least one person in this store would be able to tell you what those are."
Just then a woman with greasy hair, sunken cheeks, and sores all over her face walked by.
Me: "In fact, just look in that lady's basket and buy one of everything that she's getting. That ought to do it."
Why am I bringing this up? Because, in the event that this whole Ph D thing doesn't work out (a prospect that's looking more and more likely as time goes on) I've devised a back up plan that should make me filthy rich. I'm going to start marketing the tweaker-on-the-go meth pack, just grab one box off the shelf for all your meth cooking needs.
(It's my way of heeding the words of King Missile "Failure doesn't want to fuck you. Failure wants you to fuck it.")
(Unfortunately, the site is acting up again, so you'll have to wait until it's working properly to see a picture of my new idea)
4 comments:
You think that is bad? I don't feel bad about losing my job but I did have a low moment of shame not too long ago when I got in my car and just sang along to whatever was playing on the radio. I sang half the song, including the nanana's, but it didn't sink in until the song ended.
It was one of those preprogrammed radio stations that tells you the name of the artist and song when the song ends. I didn't realize what I was doing until the voice came on and said, "Roxette. She's Got The Look."
I groaned outloud. I wanted to trace the path from my tongue to my brain and scrub the whole thing twice but it was too late. I must now accept that part of me.
I was too ashamed to post that on MY blog but,as a friend, I am willing to wallow here with you.
(For the record: I have never owned a Roxette album)
Tweaker-on-the-go. Will you remember me when I'm the one sitting in the ghetto?
The best way to avoid a question is to just stare at the person asking it, and change the subject. It works for just about everyone. And when I say 'just about everyone' that means the smart ones, there will still be the dumb ones who will think that they didn't speak loudly enough, and will ask again an octave higher. ***w***
Ah...Chris told me you weren't feeling so hot.
I think I have the same problem. You can ask me anything about what was on my last biochem exam, but I can't do shit if it's on a test. I'm probably one of the worst test takers in the world.
If anything, I will get you a drink. Well, more like I will give you money so you can go have a drink.
Aw that really really sucks. I'm sorry.
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