Boy meets...

...rotary phone.

Always a pleasure, strolling around the Little 5 Points. Never know what you will find.

I can't figure out whether my sleepiness today is caused by the weather, or rooted in my brain asked to spin too fast, for too long, recently.

I have gained a few pounds within the past few months, as my body mistakenly assumes that food would serve as a suitable substitute for sleep. It does not work.

I have two classes left to complete my graduate courses requirements. Recently, my program has been revised; the new version is much shorter. Poof, ten classes less required, for the same degree. I do not regret taking the classes I now wouldn't  have to; I met a number of outstanding colleagues and learned a lot through completing a cognitive science minor. However, it would have been nice to be done a while back. Fewer family activities skipped, fewer nights barely slept.

I have a very pragmatic view of my PhD. I do not believe taking a bunch of classes and writing a big paper make me at all special. I resent very much those, who behave as if their academic title alone should translate into respect or appreciation of others. Now don't get me wrong, I greatly admire a few of my colleagues who happen to have PhD's. This admiration, however, is based on their behavior as human beings, and professional accomplishments, not titles.

I do understand that a PhD title opens doors to getting things done in an academic setting, thus I am playing the game. On some days, though, when I get put in my place by some insecure "doctor" with a fragile ego, or I watch such individual treat non-teaching uni staff poorly, I want to go home and not come back.