How’s it going, guy? You have no idea how happy I am about this latest bit of news: I am your Chemistry partner for this whole term! Ha ha! Who would have thought when we were working in that group of four that we were going to later become two groups of two? And that I, because I wanted the damn aisle drawer, would be partnered with you? I am such a lucky girl!
I mean, who wouldn’t want to work with a completely unprepared and mentally slow fuckwad? For rizzle, I just love that slack-jawed look–okay, okay, that even moreso slack-jawed look–that sits on your face in the pre-lab when Dr. M begins to discuss approaches we may want to take. Oh, and is that my lab manual you’re asking to see? And, what lab are we doing? What page is it on? God-damn I’m a lucky chica.
I also just love the way you can’t be bothered to write the measurements for your trials in anything approaching English or legible script. I should “burninate” in hell for not having gotten a jump on my scientific Chinese vocabulary, guy. My fault.
Then there’s that oh-so-endearing way you have of completely fucking up our experiments. Don’t think I didn’t see you fudging those data, son, or suddenly remembering to watch the clock as we reacted that sodium hydrogen carbonate. It’s so cute how you try to be all independent and macho-man and insist on not listening to my suggestions on how to conduct the lab–or the lab manual’s for that matter. I read the damn lab, figured out the measurements we need to take, and an efficient method of staggering the trials so work is equal and we get done fastest with good data. You’re still trying to find the list of step-by-step procedures in our lab manual, which don’t exist. You are so adorable! I just want to
kill you with a fork eat you with a spoon.
Speaking of edibility, I would just like to say that that cologne you’re sporting? It brings me so much olfactory pleasure. Is that l’eau de toilette, or l’eau de ciggaweed? It seems to alternate. I suddenly feel inspired to wear dirty workout clothes to lab now in order to spare my normal clothes from exposure. Who would have thought that even I, Mistress of Denim and Cargoes, could dress down for lab?
I just want to finish this with a huge “thank you” for helping me to reinforce my hatred of group-work, which our university so loves to embroil us in. Much like high school group work sessions, I again feel that compelling desire to do all the work to save my grade and run interference between the professor and the group. Because, you know, since I did all the work, who else is really qualified to answer questions like, “What plan are you executing?” or even “What topic are you covering for your research?” Thank you, guy. Now, what was your name again?
Sincerely yours for eight more damn labs,
Edited to reflect the actual material used in the experiment. I’m such an ass.