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EMMA, PAT AND I SAT quietly around one of the Maritime Club’s plastic outdoor tables. I was so obviously miserable even Pat was reluctant to rib me. Emma sipped her beer thoughtfully. Pat nursed a cup of coffee. I had a cup of coffee too, but I wasn’t drinking it. Instead, I cupped my hands around it to feel the warmth. I was starting to feel the throbbing behind one eye that prefigures one of those screaming headaches where I feel like my eyeballs are going to pop out of my skull and shoot across the room.
Pat finally spoke. “I don’t think it was a mistake, Molly.” He sounded a little defensive. “I think it’s good you went in to see someone about your anxiety. You can’t keep having these panic attacks and not do anything about it.”
“We’re not blaming you, Pat,” Emma assured him. “It’s just that Molly should have tried the medication over the weekend or something, so she’d know how she reacted to it.”
“I shouldn’t have taken it after the wine,” I said.
“The wine probably didn’t help,” Emma agreed.
“When we were about to walk up to the Student Retention Office, though, I thought my heart was going to explode. I had to do something. And you know, the medication did feel like it was working. I don’t know how it looked from the outside, but from my perspective? It was magical.”
I let my head slump down onto my folded arms.
“Now I’m never going to get tenure,” I mumbled into the tabletop
“Oh, I don’t know,” Pat tried to reassure me. “That’s the nicest you’ve ever been to Linda. She might put in a good word for you.”
“Linda?” I picked my head up. “I thought Linda was the blonde one with the long sleeved muumuus.”
“Different Linda,” Emma said. “This Linda is the one who was leading the discussion today. The one you were doing the role play with. You actually were smiling at her. The whole time.”
“Instead of cursing her in Sicilian and spitting on the ground,” Pat added.
“So, what, then? Are you saying I should stay medicated at all times? Because it gives me a completely different personality? One that’s clearly superior to my actual personality?”
Pat and Emma were quiet for a few moments. Finally Pat said,
“I think it’s wearing off.”
“Did you ever read the package insert?” Emma asked.
“No. The doctor told me to look it up online. I can do it now.”
I pulled out my phone and found the drug information with a simple search. I expanded the tiny font so that only a few words showed on the screen at a time.
“Unusual risk-taking behavior,” I read. “Decreased inhibitions. No fear of danger.”
I glanced at Pat. He nodded approvingly and, I thought, a little smugly.
“Sounds like exactly what the doctor ordered.”
“Actually, Pat, you’re supposed to call the doctor if those things happen to you. Oh, and look at these.”
I scrolled down and read through the list of possible side effects.
I handed Pat my phone.
“What’s this?”
“The side effects. Read it. You know what? I don’t think I should take these anymore. Maybe I can just rely on my supportive friends to help me deal with the stress in my life. Right?”
“Well, you’re not going to get all of these at once.” Pat slid my phone back over to me.
By this time, my head was throbbing in earnest. I reached into my water glass, pulled out a handful of ice cubes, wrapped them in a napkin and pressed the whole thing against my forehead. It helped a little.
“How did your other meetings go?” Pat asked.
Emma shook her head. “I can’t believe you went to more meetings after that. I’m so glad I’m not a department chair.”
“I think they went okay I had to talk Hanson Harrison down. One of his students from last semester is filing a lawsuit against him for giving him a C-minus. Then after Hanson, I had a meeting with that other poor kid. The one I had to remove from Larry’s class.”
“Phone Boy,” Pat said.
“Yes. Him. So you know how the Student Retention Office has been pressuring me to give him priority seating in class. I told them no, the class is already full.”
“Why was this kid getting special treatment?” Emma asked.
“My guess is he’s from out of state, so he pays the higher tuition.”
“Right,” Pat said. “We never want to lose a customer.”
“Especially not when Daddy’s a rich doctor,” Emma said.
“So he wanted to get readmitted?” Pat asked.
“No. Not exactly. He didn’t say anything about the class, in fact. He gave me a long speech about how our government has been complicit in terrorist attacks, how the moon landing was faked and there are all of these videos online that prove it, and he was going to email me the links because I absolutely had to know about this. But of course he had to be careful what he put in his email because there were certain people, the bad lizard people, who have infiltrated the ranks of our administration.”
“Sounds plausible to me,” Pat said. “At least the last part about the administration being staffed by lizard people.”
“Were you still high on your meds when you talked to him?” Emma asked.
“No, thanks for asking. I’m telling you exactly what happened. And there’s more. Somehow he segued into how social networking was funded by the CIA and the military and there are already facial recognition systems set up in public places, and we’re all probably being watched right now.”
“Not on our campus,” Emma scoffed. “Facial recognition systems? They can’t even keep our overhead projectors working.”
“I wonder how much of the kid’s paranoid rant is true,” Pat mused. “Maybe he’s onto something, and the knowledge drove him mad.”
“And then he told me my necklace was super cool and he couldn’t stop looking at it. Should I be worried?”
Pat shrugged “He’s probably planning to kill you, steal your necklace, and go strangle Larry with it. Was there anything else about the facial recognition? That sounds kind of interesting.”
“I think I’m going to talk to the SRO about him again,” I said. “Maybe the lizard people thing will be enough to get him referred to counseling. Anyway, yeah, the perfect end to a perfect workday. Top that.”
“I got nothing,” said Emma. “The SRO meeting was pretty much the highlight of my year.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Pat said. “I found out more about those high paying library jobs. Namely, how high-paying they actually are.”
Pat told us a number, and Emma and I gasped as if we had each been punched in the stomach.
“So why did I bother to get a Ph.D.?” Emma said.
“Seriously,” I agreed. “I wonder if any of them want to trade with me.”
“I’d put in my application tomorrow,” Pat said, “If those jobs weren’t reserved for our graduates. Someone obviously set this up to make our graduates’ employment numbers look good.”
“I guess I’m okay with the idea of subsidized employment, in principle,” I said. “We’re taking care of our own.”
“I’d sure like to get paid that much for shelving books,” Emma said.
“Yeah, me too. Anyway, this was fun, but I think I’m ready to wrap it up. I need to rest up for class tomorrow.”
My head was pounding. More than anything else, I wanted to be home, lying down in the dark with a real ice bag on my head.