I went into my adviser’s office today. She is the tough-as-nails dragon lady of the vet program. She scared the shit out of me the first few years of college. I wanted her to sign a form allowing me to complete a chemistry and biology minor. This is what happened:
Dr. Daley: “Why on earth would you want two minors?”
Me: “I thought it would look good on my application and make me more employable if I end up not getting into vet school.”
Dr. Daley: “Don’t bother, you’re going to vet school.”
Coming from her, this was lavish affectionate praise. It made me so happy that a woman who once told me that I would never get into vet school if I was questioning the course load she outlined for me (21 units a semester with 4 upper division science classes each), was baffled by the idea that I would plan on doing anything else.
Got drunk at bars. Friends went home with hotties. I made my dog cuddle me. The end.