In graduate school, we have this thing we call “imposter syndrome” — the gnawing fear that you don’t really belong there, that you don’t have what it takes, that you somehow slipped through the cracks in the admissions process and are actually an intellectual embarrassment, an incompetent fraud who knows jack-all about anything — and that sooner or later, like the Wizard of Oz, you will be found out and exposed for the humbug you really are.
Burlington. Colchester. Winooski.
I joined a co-op.
I went to a farmer’s market.
I took myself out to dinner and had delicious crab cakes.
I bike everywhere.