윤

Ralph called it: subconscious isn’t always about killing the ego. Sometimes it can provide quite the boost, and even in the usual setting where my self-evaluation fares worst—school. 老婆 and I returned to Austin, probably because she recently told me Ting’s husband went there, and it’d been long enough that I was unfamiliar with the particular entrance to the Texas Union (again, from seeing the Fullerton version a few weeks ago) I took until it reached a fork near the dining area. She and I were part of a large group of applicants for a competitive program under the tutelage of an eminent dignitary, whose assistants took us to an arcade to wait on their selection results. Rajeev Gantela was also inside, but he didn’t seem at all flustered by our lack of contact, as the stakes were high. The names were called from positive responses to interview results, and I was at the top of the list. Then Amit Chandra in Toronto, and a few others. I consoled 老婆 by reminding her it had been my dream, perhaps participating in solving crimes, and at least one of us was chosen. My qualifications would later be subject to question as I was unable to repeat my persuasive responses from earlier, and feigning silent wisdom didn’t seem to be winning anyone over.

Tagged family