Till the day of the accident, the worst part of this job was that I couldn’t tell my friends and family what I really did at the Institute. They think I’m an intern or secretary. I’ve been given a script of what I’m allowed to say and it purposely makes my job sound so mind-numbingly, eyelid-droopingly, attention-driftingly boring that no one will ask any follow up questions. And that’s the point.

And till the day of the accident, the best part of my job was …everything else.

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