Last week I was working my office when a student came in and asked that I unlock a side room. He commented that I was working late that night. I glanced at the clock saw that it was only 6:45 p.m. and thought to myself, this is still early. I replied to the student that these were normal work hours for me. Nothing about that conversation was extraordinary, yet I found myself thinking back to it hours later. That is my normal. This is undoubtedly a similar to many of my colleagues. Our work culture can be pretty intense.
School of Public Health News
I’m going to start this by saying this is probably one of the most terrifying things I’ve done or will do. But it needs to be done.
Robin Williams committed suicide yesterday. As soon as I found out (one of my best friends and my mom both texted me at the exact same time to tell me), I broke down crying. I’m thankful that I was alone at work and was able to do so in relative peace.
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Born and raised in the South, I’ve been through my fair share of crazy weather. Tornadoes, hurricanes, floods, you name it, and I can tell you the Twitter hashtags and safety procedures that go with them. Basements, for example–as soon as you know there’s a tornado coming, you head to the lowest part of whatever building you’re in, and you avoid windows. If you don’t have a basement, a bathtub is a good second choice. If you live in an upstairs apartment, you hope and pray that your downstairs neighbors are home and willing to let you hang out with them until the storm passes.
I wasn’t supposed to be here. I thought I’d be in a developing country providing education on maternal nutrition and infant feeding practices or HIV prevention. I thought I’d be navigating an unfamiliar culture and gaining the trust of the locals. That is, after all, what one dreams of doing with a global health degree. That is exactly what I did during and immediately after earning my MPH, but then I came back.
I have a confession to make: I had brinner twice this week. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, brinner is short for “breakfast for dinner”. Though usually reserved for broke college students or those who can’t cook, I don’t fall into either of those categories; I had come home late and hungry and cereal and homemade breakfast burritos were the quickest ways to raise my blood sugar and make me feel human again. That, and I really like breakfast burritos.
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