April 3rd: Wimpy Metrics


The day’s coming to an end and I was writing on my novel to meet the Challenge that you can still sign up for, you wimps. So I don’t have much news but I’ll give you some of my day’s metrics:

  • 6 hours of work: 44 cases, half of them assholes
  • My Fitbit says 8,000 steps but that’s ridonculous as I rode all the way to the Brazil building which is more than Fitbit’s 4 miles and 53 steps
  • 1842 calories burned: I’ll drink to that
  • 20+ executive orders by Trump. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: politicians should sign a Hippocratic Oath and promise to do no harm
  • one Supreme Court Judge Gorsuch? Haven’t followed the news on that today as I was getting too busy delivering on above metrics
  • one job/coop offer for Will: Amgen! So proud of our boy
  •  209 pages of my novel done: and the first chapter done of the 10 I promised to write before the end of May. That’s a total of 60,469 words (like you care)
  • A few minutes till I have to pick up Jon from Bart, so I will leave you with a tiny fragment from my novel:

When walking along the monumental buildings on campus, Eva admired the familiar architecture of the buildings. The American college campus really was a unique phenomenon; on trips to Europe, she had visited universities that, unlike the idea of a campus enclosure, were part of a city and you couldn’t see where it began or ended. Only in America, Eva realized, there were these campus gardens with buildings fit for kings. Getting away from Europe’s aristocracy, leaving Versailles, Windsor Castle and the Winter Palace behind, America seemed to be saying: we don’t build grand buildings and parks for despots and dictators, but we invest in the future— these buildings are for our kids.

Eva grimaced. The cost of college had risen exponentially compared to any other cost of living or the cost of having children. She and Pete had started 529’s for their children and there was a good amount of money in there, but what if her kids decided to go out of state? Or picked a private school?

People always thought that because she worked for BU, her kids could get a free ride there and easy admission to boot, but that was far from the truth. She would have to pay through the nose just like anyone else, even if they did decide to do something as “boring” as go to a school that was ten minutes from the home they grew up in.

Yet college, a place like BU, had turned from that locus amoenus for America’s young into a select breeding ground for aspiring Wall Street bankers and prospective app developers… if they were lucky to make it that far. Eva knew there were plenty of kids who wondered why that BU diploma was so expensive if all it got them was a minimum wage at the local Starbuck’s or hardware store?

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