Dear CND,
Dear Brigham Women’s Center of Neurologic Diseases,
I ask you, why? Why would you take away Social Hour today? You already only hold this glorious hour once every other week… whereas other labs and institutions at Harvard hold it every single week. Is it too much to ask that you stay on schedule?
Today, I have been pippetting one liquid, into another, into another, heating them, mixing them some more, then mixing them even more, cutting shit open, sealing shit closed, etc. etc. for eight fucking hours. Non-stop. And you know what I was thinking of this entire time? When I cut open the sixth mouse and took out his spleen, I imagined how it looked like a bean. A bean in a burrito I would be eating at Social Hour in a couple hours. The DMEM soaking those cells was the bright red color of the fruit punch that I would wash my mac n cheese or pizza down with. But low and behold… 5:00pm came and went without any signs of festivities on the floor. I could not stuff my fat face with ok tasting, greasy food nor could I hold a beer in my hand and pretend to drink without turning red.
OK. I ADMIT IT. I STOLE SOME ARTICHOKE DIP ON THE FIRST FLOOR a couple days ago. I know I pretended to be part of the conference and grabbed some dip and bread and ran. IM SORRY. But today… this… this was just out of line. Fuck you Harvard Institute of Medicine. For raising up my hopes and giving me a reason to live and then TURNING MY LIFE INTO ONE BIG JOKE OF AN EXISTENCE.
Always,
Andrew
