Grad School: The Musical

I’m sitting in the lobby of one of the hotels playing host to AHA. I wish I could take pictures of this herd of grad students deep in thought over their laptops, cups of coffee steaming by their sides. But I think that whipping out a camera right would be a bit like photographing a skittish jackal at the zoo or a circus performer juggling fourteen flaming batons, so I'll resist. So you’ll have to trust me that, though the air is obviously brittle with stress, there’s also something comforting (for me, who has no interviews to prepare for today) about sitting here first thing in the morning, surrounded by people who also need to get up in the morning, sit at their computers, drink their coffee, and let the day seep in from behind the monitor. I suddenly feel as if I’m in Grad School: The Musical, and each of these movements that I make in isolation each morning (stumble, sit, turn, drool, type, sip, lean back, close eyes, open eyes, sip, type, stare, stare, stare) are being done in concert, a dance number in a larger production happening here in this lobby. I’m also amusing myself by giving it all a sluggish morning tune. No lyrics. Who wants to sing first thing in the morning?