Trust me: I’m a doctor
The postman knocked on the door this morning. He said he didn’t want to risk bending the envelope he was holding, upon which was printed, “Please do not bend”. I appreciated this a great deal: I remember winning an old-fashioned vinyl LP, back in the days when they weren’t so old-fashioned, and the postman folded it in half, despite the “do not bend” notice, before shoving it through the letterbox. I still can’t believe he did that.
I knew what would be in the envelope today. It was this:
You may now call me Doctor Caity
I’ve wanted a PhD for such a long time that I can’t even remember why now. The first memory I have of wanting one is when I was about 10 or 11. I remember being in the classroom at junior school, wanting one. The memory is lit with a golden glow, so it must be good.
I didn’t know what subject I would do it in for a long time. My first degree is in chemistry; this would be a bad choice because I wasn’t that good at it. Likewise with my second degree, which is in scientific computing. My third degree is in English language and linguistics; my dissertation supervisor seemed to think I could do a PhD in linguistics, and I was interested enough to do one (then). I was glad to have finally found a subject, even if it take take what seems like a million years to complete.
I will pick up my personal purple-bound copy of my thesis from the Albert Sloman Library in March. Of course, I will never open it again for fear of finding typos.
In July, I will wear a flouncy gown, a long droopy hood and a floppy hat.
After graduation, I will be hanging up my pandammonium.com, a site still in its infancy, for more details)., as I think four degrees is more than enough for anyone. Instead, I will continue to grow things and make things, and, hopefully, sell things (see