or die.”
Will’s logic was unarguable. I
make up my mind to call her, Dr. Jessica Parker, of Florida University, and
find out if there is any way I can schedule time at her laboratory. It’s a long
shot, but if it has a one-percent chance of success it’s worth the call.
“Thanks Will,” I say, then give
him a peck on the cheek. He recoils in surprise, then grins from ear to ear.
“Got to go now. I’ll let you
know what happens.”
I rush back to my apartment
to call Dr. Parker. It’s Thursday already and I don’t have much time. Around
the holidays, all universities pretty much run on the same schedule and on
Friday afternoon the university would close. If Dr. Parker’s schedule ended
early, and she decided to leave, I would have no way to contact her for at
least a couple of weeks. I couldn’t wait that long.
I dial her office number; it
rings... and rings... and rings.
“Oh please, somebody be
there,” I plead.
Finally, an answer, a male
voice.
“May I speak with Dr.
Parker,” I ask.
“Who’s calling.”
“My name is Indigo Wells.”
“Do you have business with
her?”
“Actually, I’m a PhD
candidate and I’m interested in the work Dr. Parker is doing.”
“I’ll transfer you to the
lab,” he says.
What luck, she’s still in
town, I think.
A female voice answers the
phone.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Parker.”
“Yes, hello,” I say, my hand
shaking slightly. “I’m a PhD candidate and I’ve been studying your work.”
“You mean someone is actually
reading my stuff,” she quips, laughing.
“Oh yes, it was interesting. I
was wondering; could you use an intern, to assist you in your research?”
“Well, actually yes.”
I feel a sense of exhilaration.
She continues: “I’ve been
asking for one for over a year, but unfortunately there’s nothing in the
budget. I’m sorry.”
“You wouldn’t have to pay me.”
“You have the means to
support yourself?”
“I’m pretty versatile. I’m
planning to get a part-time job.”
“How much time do you have
available?” she asks.
“At least a year. I’m taking
a leave-of-absence.”
“When can you come in for an
interview?”
“When’s good for you?”
“I’ll be hanging around here
a couple more days. Do you think you could come in Wednesday?”
Wednesday? That would give me
less than a week to get there, drive all the way to Florida. And what if there
were delays?
“Sure,” I answer, not wanting
to sound unappreciative.
“That gives us time to get
the formalities out of the way and hit the ground running at the beginning of
the term.”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, take this down, here’s
the address... ”
I couldn’t believe this was
happening. She was actually giving me a chance. I would be working with a
renowned microbiologist who not only shares my interests, but my philosophy as
well.
“Did you get all that?” she
asks.
“Yes. Wednesday, in the lab,
on Orlando Avenue.”
“Wonderful. One more thing.
On the university website, there’s a standard job application. Would you fill
it out? It’s just a formality, but I have to do it. Make sure you enter my name
as supervisor. That way I can give you a reference for Human Resources.”
“Sure, no problem.”
“Okay then, see you on
Wednesday,” she says.
“Wednesday it is, and thanks.
Goodbye.”
I hang up the phone and fill
out the form as she asked. As I click on the “SEND” button, reality hits me; I
have only five days to move to Florida, a state I have never been to, for a job
that doesn’t pay. What was I thinking?
Okay, maybe I don’t have to actually
move to Florida. I could leave all my stuff here and just go live in Florida
for a year or so. But then I would have to pay double rent and still pay for
the heat and utilities up here. No, that wouldn’t work. I look around my
apartment. Most of the furniture was second hand, acquired from thrift stores.
I had owned it for almost the entire ten years I was enrolled
Will’s logic was unarguable. I
make up my mind to call her, Dr. Jessica Parker, of Florida University, and
find out if there is any way I can schedule time at her laboratory. It’s a long
shot, but if it has a one-percent chance of success it’s worth the call.
“Thanks Will,” I say, then give
him a peck on the cheek. He recoils in surprise, then grins from ear to ear.
“Got to go now. I’ll let you
know what happens.”
I rush back to my apartment
to call Dr. Parker. It’s Thursday already and I don’t have much time. Around
the holidays, all universities pretty much run on the same schedule and on
Friday afternoon the university would close. If Dr. Parker’s schedule ended
early, and she decided to leave, I would have no way to contact her for at
least a couple of weeks. I couldn’t wait that long.
I dial her office number; it
rings... and rings... and rings.
“Oh please, somebody be
there,” I plead.
Finally, an answer, a male
voice.
“May I speak with Dr.
Parker,” I ask.
“Who’s calling.”
“My name is Indigo Wells.”
“Do you have business with
her?”
“Actually, I’m a PhD
candidate and I’m interested in the work Dr. Parker is doing.”
“I’ll transfer you to the
lab,” he says.
What luck, she’s still in
town, I think.
A female voice answers the
phone.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Parker.”
“Yes, hello,” I say, my hand
shaking slightly. “I’m a PhD candidate and I’ve been studying your work.”
“You mean someone is actually
reading my stuff,” she quips, laughing.
“Oh yes, it was interesting. I
was wondering; could you use an intern, to assist you in your research?”
“Well, actually yes.”
I feel a sense of exhilaration.
She continues: “I’ve been
asking for one for over a year, but unfortunately there’s nothing in the
budget. I’m sorry.”
“You wouldn’t have to pay me.”
“You have the means to
support yourself?”
“I’m pretty versatile. I’m
planning to get a part-time job.”
“How much time do you have
available?” she asks.
“At least a year. I’m taking
a leave-of-absence.”
“When can you come in for an
interview?”
“When’s good for you?”
“I’ll be hanging around here
a couple more days. Do you think you could come in Wednesday?”
Wednesday? That would give me
less than a week to get there, drive all the way to Florida. And what if there
were delays?
“Sure,” I answer, not wanting
to sound unappreciative.
“That gives us time to get
the formalities out of the way and hit the ground running at the beginning of
the term.”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, take this down, here’s
the address... ”
I couldn’t believe this was
happening. She was actually giving me a chance. I would be working with a
renowned microbiologist who not only shares my interests, but my philosophy as
well.
“Did you get all that?” she
asks.
“Yes. Wednesday, in the lab,
on Orlando Avenue.”
“Wonderful. One more thing.
On the university website, there’s a standard job application. Would you fill
it out? It’s just a formality, but I have to do it. Make sure you enter my name
as supervisor. That way I can give you a reference for Human Resources.”
“Sure, no problem.”
“Okay then, see you on
Wednesday,” she says.
“Wednesday it is, and thanks.
Goodbye.”
I hang up the phone and fill
out the form as she asked. As I click on the “SEND” button, reality hits me; I
have only five days to move to Florida, a state I have never been to, for a job
that doesn’t pay. What was I thinking?
Okay, maybe I don’t have to actually
move to Florida. I could leave all my stuff here and just go live in Florida
for a year or so. But then I would have to pay double rent and still pay for
the heat and utilities up here. No, that wouldn’t work. I look around my
apartment. Most of the furniture was second hand, acquired from thrift stores.
I had owned it for almost the entire ten years I was enrolled
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