"And do you still feel stress out this morning?", he asked.

"No, I said. I'm to bloody tired. Because I couldn't fall asleep and then I fell asleep and then your poster almost fell on us at 4:30am and then I couldn't fall asleep and then I fell asleep and then the alarm went off and I wanted to sleep some more but I couldn't because I have to catch the bus back home," I complained.

"Eat your oatmeal, grumpy," was all what he had to say about that.

The poster, by the way, was temporarily taped on the wall with, well, tape (double-sided) while waiting for a frame, which itself is sitting somewhere at Aaron's Brothers, waiting to be purchased. The purchase will take place once the Fabulous Feline receives a paycheck, which is likely to happen soon, but not all that quickly. I wish I had the wits to draw an analogy with how I am temporarily taped to the tenure track grail and waiting for either the proof that I can do it without sacrificing everything else, or the discovery of a better suited career, but I am afraid it would be of rather poor taste.

But it is true that I felt more relaxed, if sleepy. Of course I still need to figure out what I want to do with the PhD I am trying to earn, but if I don't find the answer right now I'm still going to be fine. I went through the day quietly, attended my aquatic fitness class with much pleasure, went to the store, and came home.

There was an email from my coauthor quietly waiting for me in my inbox. It has a new version of the paper attached to it, and it listed some to do tasks for me. It also said that I should complete them by Saturday, or, at the latest, by Monday.

My first reaction was to feel stressed out and collapse. Therefore I cried a bit and had some of the vanilla ice cream I had just purchased.

And then I felt upset. "Do you think you can just whistle for me?" I thought. I did not complain when he put the paper on hold for eight months; I accepted the fact that he had left the lab and was very busy with new things. But I have been sweating hard for this paper in the last four weeks, and I'm reaching my rupture point. Actually, even without considering my need to take it easier on the week-ends, nor the pile of homeworks and midterms that will require my attention starting tomorrow morning at 10, I don't see in what asking me, on a Thursday night, for running some new computations, researching references, and proofreading 26 pages of ill-written English "by Saturday, or, at the latest, by Monday", is in any way reasonable.

Especially the proofreading part, which involves understanding and commenting the new structure of the paper, correcting typos and obvious grammatical mistakes, ensuring that everything makes sense and that I agree with the conclusions, checking that the numerical values are correct and that none of my pet points has been forgotten in the dust of a previous draft, and which will also require at some point to fully rewrite entire paragraphs of dubious phrasing.

What am I supposed to do, drop everything else (sleep included) and dutifully make my way through the pages with the help of caffeine and the company of a headache? Am I supposed to tell the Fabulous Feline that I am sorry, but the guy I couldn't get a hold on for the past eight months suddenly needs me to work as fast as possible and I have to prioritize him over our plans of a relaxing Friday night? Am I supposed to tell the professor I am working for that the schedule of his class is less important than my paper, which is not even tied to a strict deadline as we want to submit it to a journal rather than a conference? Or should I tell the students directly that I know that, what with the final exam being two weeks from now, they would like to have some feedback on their understanding of the material, but that they'll just have to wait for it while I am editing the English of a native speaker?

I'm afraid not.

Which is why I am currently venting here in order to be able to compose a polite and professional response in a little while.