Table 144

Mel's gone to the old people food trough with her mom, a good way to cap off their superwalmart (I don't capitalize it for much the same reason as not capitalizing god) trek. They went in search of a bargain priced string of candy canes to pave our neighbors' pathway. Because Alice LOVED their Halloween light-up ghosts. Too much. And decapitated one. Sorry, Lora.

A morning out must mean that Alice isn't screaming or dying. So we'll continue to tweedle our thumbs and wait for Florida healthcare. And assume my bad-ass big kid immune system can foist this bug. There's nothing white in my throat today, in case you cared.

So in the spirit of providing helpful guidance to those who are as floored by the horror of my post-doctoral dissertation submission process as I am, here are Jessica's been-there-killed-that rules of grad school:
1. Activism without critique IS worthwhile.
2. Law school lets in like 50 people per year. So does med school. There will be 50 people in your classes. And they make more money when they're done. What's the problem? Who gives a crap if you don't like law?
3. Consider made-fun-of "professional" options besides law and med school. Yes, you will get bullied with your Ed.D. at academic gatherings, but it's only because everyone else is so embittered. And you will have some smart colleagues. Guess what? I don't. But they're meaner.