I remember times where I've woken up to find love letters left up on my computer, waiting for me. Sweet tidbits that always made my morning. Then came Katie. Now, I wake up to shit like this. WHAT DOES IT EVEN MEAN?
Blowing things up isn't the hard part (though it is cool). Getting to choose what you blow up is the hard part. Those kinds of employers generally don't give their rank-and-file much choice in that arena.
But, hey, if she agrees with the choices made, woohoo indeed.
Overwhelmingly, that's a subset of "government". (At least in the US, and many other countries.) That's not to say exceptions don't happen (see my post about libertarians and latin), just it ain't where the probabilities are.
seeing as how andy's looking to finish up double degrees in a couple forms of engineering in the next few years and then move onto robotics, i'm concerned now that my future may hold similar crap on my computer. or maybe robot doodles. which could be cool.
i think you should remove all the brackets from her work and leave a note saying "let the equations run free!!!!"