A group of strangers are going to evaluate whether I should be permitted to work at my institution for the rest.of.my.life or not for even another semester based on 9 pages. NINE pages.
nine. pages.
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a confused mixture. Examples: hotchpotch of errors, 1728; of garlic and cheese, 1591; of ideas; of many meats, 1530; of all sorts of men, 1652; of many nations, 1652; of true religion and popery, 1888; of songs, 1835; of tastes; of words, 1386.
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9 comments:
Today? I'm pulling hard for you!
If they make the wrong decision I'll come beat them up.
I'm just offering.
That's awful. Is this the tenure committee, or an editorial board reviewing one more article for publication?
It sounds like it's out of your hands at this point. It's gonna do what it's gonna do. So at this point all you can do is take care of yourself, and know that we're all rooting for you!
When will you know?
I am thinking of you and wishing you the very best outcome for all parties involved.
Holy crap! Seriously?
Am having a moment like I did when I saw the guy in the plastic bagel suit (that said Chesapeake Bagels) waving at traffic. Suddenly I freaking love my job.
It goes without saying (wish is why I probably forgot to say it) that I wish you whole heaps of luck.
Gooooo, HP!
Good luck! You probably won't need it since I'm sure it is 9 AWESOME pages.
good luck.
i'll be thinking of you.
Scary. Sending good thoughts your way - good luck!
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