Can I just run away to San Francisco and pretend to be a hipster? It seems like it would be easier. I could pretend like I've never aspired to do more than eat clam chowder (#alldaylong) and wander along fisherman's wharf. I could frequent Starbucks. I could write angsty stories and neurotic poems and get those horn-rimmed glasses that everybody seems to be wearing nowadays. I could probably be perfectly happy. Maybe.
I know I don't actually want easy. I just think I do when it's the middle of the semester and grad school apps are overwhelmingly awful. But here's the deal, I'm going to grad school . I've decided it's what I want to do. I'll like it. I just need a grad school to decide I'm worth the investment is all. Oh goodness, I'll be so glad when this entire process is over.
I've eaten my weight in cheese and sausage today. Seriously though, I've probably eaten $40 worth of expensive cheeses of all varieties. That's what happens when you happen to be the 251 lab instructor and it's the week where you get to teach all about cheese. The entire situation is exacerbated when that very same day you also happen to have that one micro lab where all you do for a whole hour and a half is eat more cheese and all manner of similarly delicious things.
I keep thinking I should feel slightly sick about that, but I don't. I feel nothing but good about this. If we're talking about the smoked gouda, that is. Because
this girl was not born to eat blue cheese. I'm not sure if anybody is ever born to eat blue cheese. In fact, I'm almost positive the consumption of blue cheese could be turned into some sort of extreme sport.
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