10 hours of work. Gone. Because my advisor won't bother to pay any fucking attention to the agreements WE made about what to include and not include in my proposal.

Fine.

I'll read his hand-wavy and over-generalized example paragraphs, mesh in my brutal and cold logic, and see what comes out.

Science is not fucking puppy dogs and goddamn butterflies. This is serious shit that must be exacting, precise, and above all lacking any emotion whatsoever.

He and I do not see eye to eye on writing. This much is plainly obvious.

"Seems like you started off on the wrong foot." Oh yeah. I cite prevalence rates for minorities and poor people experiencing high levels of stress during pregnancy, and all the sudden it's too exacting.

Well that's what old white men and women have said in some article somewhere, so it may as well be the word of God for this application.

I can't fucking stand it. I want to either scream or repudiate every one of his points in the most angry, blunt, and totally inappropriate way possible.

But he gives in given enough push, and I am not about to compromise my brutal, cold logic and a well-written proposal for: 1) Including way too many things that will expand beyond my page limit; 2) Including things we SPECIFICALLY decided NOT to do; 3) I don't fucking know.

GODDAMNIT I knew he was going to pull some shit like this. Thankfully this is due late on the 17th.

I envy people who can actually write a proposal and not have someone constantly looking over their shoulder.

I don't even want to know what writing up my first publication will be like.

Alright, I feel slightly better and not nearly as willing to bitch him out by e-mail.

Goddamnit.

previous - next