Another damp and gray day, so yesterday’s sunshine was all a ruse, a dastardly plot to lull one into a false sense of spring. Because why should you have a proper spring a month after actual spring began?
As burdens in life go, this is a small one. But if you’re going to tell me its spring, it should be spring. That’s not too much to ask. And it should be almost an article of faith. In fact in some cultures, it has been. But, as we are people of our times, let us put it in the modern context: if we can’t trust the planet who can we trust?
Probably the planet is getting us back for something we’ve done. No doubt we deserve it.
But think of these trees, these poor, tricked, trees!
I talked to a real-life person today …
I don’t know all of the ends and outs of an epidemiologist’s day, but I have enjoyed learning how they all talk about their work and the way they relate it to the rest of us.
After the interview we talked about types of epidemiologists. I figure, once I finally learn how to spell the word I should figure out what kind I want to be. Would I take on the casual, c’est la vie, attitude? Would I become a worry wart? Would I just figure the chips are going to fall wherever chips fall, and that’s into my mouth, after they’ve been on the floor? Would I be the founder of Extra Hands, LLC, a firm designed to do my work, so my hands never have to touch anything and get dirty? Would I drop a spoon and play devil-may-care since a dirty spoon shouldn’t separate me from dessert?
Epidemiologists must spend a lot of time in public resisting the urge to tell people to get their germy germs off my lawn and away from the water fountain.
But they do get to call themselves disease detectives, though, which is really cool.
