Is that like kids pretending if they can't see you, you can't see them?

She is old enough to have kids that are too old for me to date. But she's not old enough to speak up for herself.

I am driven by shame, on top of everything else. I don't want to be shown up as incompetent or stupid--it's much better to be shown to be searching for knowledge. So I ask a lot of questions.

As far as I can tell, she looks like an idiot, because she can't work out what questions to ask. I did hear back that she went to our boss to say there's a lot on her plate, but she is going to have to step up and determine what belongs there or not. And she has to stop going around me and nut up and talk to her fucking project manager.

Jesus.

I ended up laying out what tasks I think she should be able to do today, made her speak audibly and say she has no questions about those specific tasks, established that we'd meet at the same time tomorrow morning to make sure she can do Friday's work, thanked the outgoing developer and hung up on them.

Fuck off, seriously.

When you add in the responsibility to carry things? Forget it.

But she's cute! I'd rather have her on the phone than this developer, let me say that up front.

Daaaaamn, our company stock jumped $20 overnight. If only I knew how to manage all my various forms of company stock. I even bought a couple books recommended here, and I still don't know when I'm supposed to sell everything! It's not like I need the money immediately, but...damn.

I'm going to do muffin recon.

Kat,

the thing is: I am still her advocate. I want her to finish really really badly. there is no other person I have wanted to see finish as badly as this. I will probably have a "come to Jesus" (as my friend calls it) meeting with her after the defense and outline for her what she needs to do to complete this degree.

well she talks as much as the developer?

So I'm still thinking of a Night Circus birthday party with Fred Steak, zebra pasta, caramel corn, chocolate mice and a big giant black and white cake with raspberry filling.

Yeah, I get that. I have students that kill me with their academic self-destruction.

So I'm back at the office and I have a 9AM conference call with this bureaucrat. I have to remember to play nice and not come over all T-Rex on them.

And there was a huge box of homemade coffee cake in the break room, and now I feel bloated and gross. Bad idea.

So I'm still thinking of a Night Circus birthday party with Fred Steak, zebra pasta, caramel corn, chocolate mice and a big giant black and white cake with raspberry filling.

reading that makes me tired. I don't remember the last time cooked and baked for a meal, much less a party.

Yesterday she took one thing and put it in a box then stacked that box on top of all the other boxes. Lather rinse repeat.

See, I know this sucks when it's your kid and you have to actually pack and move, but my ovaries are groaning, "I MISS THAT AGE SO MUCH."