April 02, 2004
Really?
By the front door of the building formerly known as the Shockoe Bottom Arts Center
North 21st and East Grace Streets
I'm in the lab giving up on my DSP homework because I have somehow become too stupid to do it. Before I pack up to go, I check my email to see if the career center person has got back to me. If I'm going to interview for another internship, I have to have her approve my resume first and the application deadline for an internship in which I'm interested is late next week. Not that I have a chance. The Prestigious Internship Program didn't take me even with my professor calling in favors and saying "Pick her!" I'm wondering if this whole engineering thing was totally misguided, because obviously no one will hire me. (Yes, I'm still having to use those highly depressive eye drops. Most of this attitude and the cognitive problems I'm having with my homework are a direct reflection of that.)
A new message has come in and I scroll down to that it's from—NASA. The Prestigious Internship Program. And they've finally come to their senses and funded me. I guess the fourth time's the charm. I'm really pleased about this, but what with the depression I don't have any trouble suppressing squeals of delight. So he'll know, I forward the salient bit of the email to the professor who's been trying to get me in and thank him for all his help.
So I have my internship. I get a little help on my DSP homework and only have to wipe tears from my eyes a couple times. Turns out that I was doing it correctly and didn't know it.
286 words | April 2, 2004 09:43 PM | Rocket science