not only am i stared down by creepy 19th-cen. german carved wood cherubs every day, but there are also days when my director stumbles past my desk after an especially decadent catered lunch (we do this every wednesday), pats me on the shoulder, and says, “why don’t you get some wine for yourself, sweetie?” mind you, this man is a feminist and considers his staff family. that’s not a creepy “sweetie.” lord knows i know the difference.

so here i am, on a wednesday afternoon, stuffing my face with chocolate mousse and red wine on the university’s dime, and thinking that my 9-to-5 gig just isn’t that bad.

(photos by me – taken on the clock, of course)