When you’re a wit, you can be humble. When, like me, you’re a half-wit, you have to brag about it.
Today on F*cebook, a female friend who runs a small business announced that she’d just gotten a call from a place she hadn’t heard from before – the Yukon.
I responded, “You got the Call of the Wild.”
[Cue laugh track.]
I don’t know what I’d do for fun if I didn’t amuse myself.
Here’s where I’m at in the Long March toward my Master’s Degree. I’m formulating a theme for my capstone project.
It’s a humbling experience. Everybody seems to have a fairly clear idea what a capstone project is, except me.
Apparently it’s a research project, but a small one. Targeted, constrained. We do the research, we present the short paper, we get our sheepskins if it’s good enough, and they hold a secret ceremony in which they bestow on us the Sacred Rubber Sorter Finger.
At this point I’ve got a general direction, but not a specific topic.
I fear I’m going to have to do some actual research, to clarify my thinking.
Yes, it’s as bad as that.
Oh yes, I’m going to get my last vestigial hip replaced later this month. Expect not to expect me for a while at some point.