Yee-Haw!

(listening to "Goodbye, Pork Pie Hat" by Charles Mingus)

I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job.

So far, anyway. It has only been training so far, but it's strangely invigorating to sit and read Standard Operating Procedures and a bunch of précis about cancers, proteins and macular degeneration. I can say, without fear of contradiction, that ocular angiogenesis is synonymous with choroidal neovascularization. I'm so excited to have a real job, I could weep. I'm going to have a DESK with a VIEW! I will be able to see trees from my workstation. I'm licensed to use the word "apoptosis" if I need to.

("Soldier Blue," by The Cult)

Regular hours. Non-insulting pay. Respect. It's great! I'll be involved in the battle against some pretty nasty diseases, particularly breast cancer. It's more important than foo-foo coffee drinks.