The Real World, Gaithersburg- Science Camp, Season 2?
My application to NIST summer research 2007 is in. This week I wrote up my little personal statement about all the research I want to do, trying to make myself sound like a respectable person.
They did have fantastic fascilities, I had a great advisor and I worked in a beautiful brand new building and I had all these fun instruments to play with. And I did fucking good work.
We lived in a hotel with a pool and 75 other college kids and free wine and beer Monday-Thursday 5-7. Seriously, come back from work, free beer and drunk hot tub antics, Friday could be pong all night, Saturday by the pool and DC clubs at night, more laying out all Sunday... Couldn't' ask for anything else.
At the same time, I've never been so tense and anxious about social situations in my life, we were so overly self-involved and together to the point of being incestuous . I've never had that kind of omnipresent drama, with emails at work as our confessionals. We'd write back and forth all day trying to come up with more clever insightful ways of describing what had happened the night before. High school wasn't this bad.
I don't know I'll get in again, with my GPA as it is, but I don't know if I can handle that shit again. The last month, I pretty much stopped caring and I thought, well I'm leaving soon, I can do whatever I want, I can black out at a nightclub and I can smoke a bowl in the parking lot and I can fool around with the token lesbian from Smith and I can make out with my roommate's crush in front of her and I can get in fights that end violently and I can wake up in other people's rooms and I can go to work drunk and I can go to work hungover ... all the while drunkenly giggling, "oooh we work for the government, y'all...."
We used to joke that there was no way they could pay us that much and pay for our rooms and fund our research for the little use we were. We must be a social experiement, or a reality tv show in the making, we're the less sexy Laguna Beach. We party harder though.
They did have fantastic fascilities, I had a great advisor and I worked in a beautiful brand new building and I had all these fun instruments to play with. And I did fucking good work.
We lived in a hotel with a pool and 75 other college kids and free wine and beer Monday-Thursday 5-7. Seriously, come back from work, free beer and drunk hot tub antics, Friday could be pong all night, Saturday by the pool and DC clubs at night, more laying out all Sunday... Couldn't' ask for anything else.
At the same time, I've never been so tense and anxious about social situations in my life, we were so overly self-involved and together to the point of being incestuous . I've never had that kind of omnipresent drama, with emails at work as our confessionals. We'd write back and forth all day trying to come up with more clever insightful ways of describing what had happened the night before. High school wasn't this bad.
I don't know I'll get in again, with my GPA as it is, but I don't know if I can handle that shit again. The last month, I pretty much stopped caring and I thought, well I'm leaving soon, I can do whatever I want, I can black out at a nightclub and I can smoke a bowl in the parking lot and I can fool around with the token lesbian from Smith and I can make out with my roommate's crush in front of her and I can get in fights that end violently and I can wake up in other people's rooms and I can go to work drunk and I can go to work hungover ... all the while drunkenly giggling, "oooh we work for the government, y'all...."
We used to joke that there was no way they could pay us that much and pay for our rooms and fund our research for the little use we were. We must be a social experiement, or a reality tv show in the making, we're the less sexy Laguna Beach. We party harder though.
Labels: bad decisions, booze, slacking
posted by Sarah at 5:38 PM
1 Comments:
Holy crap. That sounds like my summer at NIH.
Post a Comment
<< Home