Chomp Chomp Chomp

Aggression on an innocent hotdog.

U-g-h.

It's the end of the school term; the students are gearing up for their summer holidays after the exams; and I finished my final lecture on Monday.  And what happens?

Just when I thought I could take a break, wane down a little, when most of the people in the department disappear anyway (in the name of research), I got caught in the department corridor about my course outline for next September.

[insert angry face here]

That corridor - the death trap - is nothing new to me.  In fact, when I was a PhD, we began calling it something to the effect of The Last Mile.  Our student office is at the end of a very very long and straight hallway.  In order for us students to get out (literally, get out), we need to pass by every single one of our supervisors' offices.  There are no plants of which to hide behind, no nook in the wall, no water cooler, no anything.

I remember we would literally peek out from our tiny office to see whether there were any signs of an opened door.  If there were, we prayed that we would walk quietly enough and that our supervisors were focused enough so no one would know that any of us had walked by.

One time, we even went out from the fire exit.  No Joke.  Those were the days.... :)

But now, I have no partner-in-crime.  My possy had left and graduated.  I now have to face that walk all by myself.  Of course, I no longer work in the student office, so the walk is a bit shorter.  But still, my office is still part of that dreadful hallway.  = ="

Plus, I wear heels, so you can hear me coming from miles away anyway. 

Major *blah*