She doesn't know her ass from a hole in the ground.

Since I just returned from a halcyon week in the South with a whole slew of fabulous people, one might think that I'd be peaceful and nourished and rejuvenated - but perhaps one would only think that if one didn't know me.

Here's the thing. Most of the fabulous people I spent the week with are really into their occupations - their grad programs, their careers, etc. I am not. Now, don't misunderstand me - I love what I do outside of work, and I'm very excited about what I will be doing, but currently, I'm just showing up for a paycheck. I keep my eyes open, I bare my teeth in what I hope looks like a smile, I do a day's work in 2.5 hours, and then I try to pass the time without getting fired. I have done this with every job I've had since leaving grad school.

I know that what I'm about to admit is whiny and mealy-mouthed and privileged and probably indicative of a weak mind. In fact, I'm sure that some of you will tell me to go put on my big girl panties and buck the f*ck up. I take your point; my life is really nice. Nonetheless, the simple truth is that I am my primary interest. When anything other than n.o.c., or my family, or my friends takes me away from that, then I become bored and murderous and a little hysterical. I know that millions of good folks spend their lives toiling away at sh*ttier jobs than I can imagine, and I know that many of them make the best of it, but I am simply not that admirable a person. And I bet you thought this post would be about the beach.

Anyway, we think we may have found some ambergris. It's either that, or some really disgusting, stinky sea funk with a booger-like consistency. What do you think?