Mail box thrills

Over the last week, I incorporated some minor changes that were suggested during my defence to my final document, and handed it over to the University. This, along with a ton of administrivia, has resulted in me being officially declared a PhD!

I’ve been wondering how to bring up that bit of news here, and somehow my original thought: “That’s Dr. Pundit to you now, bitches,” didn’t seem particularly appropriate. And so I decided to go with another plan, and I present to you a recent addition to the name on my mailbox just outside my front door.

I'm now a doctor.

Upon completing this step, it’s dawned on me that I am clueless as to what I’m going to be doing with/for the rest of my life. But more on that later; I’m currently too busy aimlessly roaming around town.

(But, didn’t you already tell us about this, aren’t you milking this for more than it’s worth?

You know what, I’m quite certain I’m more qualified than anyone who reads my journal. And, with master’s degrees from two departments and a doctoral degree from two programs, I am not kidding here.

Sure, you’ve slept with a lot more people, much hotter than anyone I’ve ever been close to, but I have more diplomas on my wall. It’s all I have going for me, and I will milk it of every last drop.)