I displeased Whitecastle today. Why don't I tell you something you don't know. Like how you shouldn't kiss a baby on the lips (or pass anything from your mouth to a baby's) until it's about 2 years old. It's the same reason why you have to tell them bedtime tales of a cloud-riding monkey and how Medicare will take care of them in old age. There're some truths that they just can't handle. And your mouth germ is one of them. But I digress.
Earlier, I referred to some people who are writing recs for me as 'delinquents' in an email. Whitecastle wanted me to know that he was not a delinquent.
Whitecastle: For someone who's a good writer, you should be more careful about how you address people when your career is on the line.
Moi: But your shirt looks nice today?
Whitecastle: Thank you. Not helping.
This should have been the end of the conversation-- a conversation I was tricked into having because Edith said that Whitecastle was looking for me and made me leave my half eaten pizza to check in with him. He was not looking for me. But since I was already sitting there, he had some questions.
Whitecastle: How many people are enrolled in the study right now?
Moi: What? Thousands.
Whitecastle: Useless. Now I'm even more mad.
Moi: I'm in the middle of a pizza.
Whitecastle: Should I write "attention to detail" in your letter? And when's our meeting?
Moi: Mid-May? Mid-May.
Whitecastle: You have no idea, do you? I think it was the 23rd... no, here it is, May 12th.
Moi: Funny. I think that's mid-May.
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