The weekend after I defended my dissertation I went mountain biking. The area is near my grandparents, so I took the long way home and visited with them. Almost as soon as I arrived, we had this conversation:
Grandpa: We heard a rumor about you that we weren't very happy with. It was about a job you've applied for.
Me: Oh. My mom must have told you that I applied for that job in the Philippines.
Grandpa: She did. And trust me, you wouldn't want to live there. You have to boil everything before you eat it. Eggs, vegetables, everything.
Me: Yeah, but it would only be for a couple of years. Besides, it's not very likely that I'll get the job anyway* because I'm sure there are a bunch of candidates I'm competing with, and I'm probably not even close to being the most qualified.
Grandma: Well, you never know. They might not have many applicants.
Grandpa: Yeah, but if you do get it, then you'll have to move.
Me: Not necessarily. I could always turn it down, but I don't think I would. If they were to offer it to me I'm pretty sure I'd go.
Grandma: It could be a good learning experience for you, but we'd sure hate to see you move that far away. We hope you find something closer. Although, maybe you could come back with a little Filipino girl. They sure are beautiful.
Me: Tell me about it.
*I never heard anything after submitting my application. Not a good sign.