No one awake and posting before 7:30am on a Saturday morning? What's wrong with ya'll!!
Actually..what's wrong with me? I've gotten in this crazy habit of coming home from work around 6 or 7, eating dinner with B, turning on the tv and passing out on the couch, before briefly waking up and moving to my bed. This usually goes down between 8:30 and 9:30pm. What the hell? Then I wake up bright and early at 4 or 5 or 6 the next morning.
I actually kind of like being awake that early. B is alseep, as is the rest of the city. It's dark out but getting lighter, and I feel like I'm the only one in the universe. If I still smoked cigarettes, 5am would be a great time to sit on my porch and smoke one. I can spend hours playing around on the internets or reading a book on the porch or just hanging with my kitties, before I have to start showering and getting ready for work. Or before I start tinkering around with my work from home. Or before I get dressed and head off to the farmers market. Or the coffee shop. Or before I start doing nothing at all but sit on the couch with B, watching movies on demand. Depending on the day of the week.
Today I think I'm going to spend a few more minutes reading the news, and then work on job applications. I've expanded my search to 5 schools, including 1 ivy league school that I don't think I will get a job at, and if I do, I don't think I would want to work at. Who wants to work 90 hours a week until they get tenure, and always be under pressure to be publishing work in the top sociology journals OR ELSE? Not me! But they are looking to hire someone with exactly the subfield and interests that I have, so I figure I might as well throw my name in there.
Meanwhile the move yesterday went mostly great. All my stuff fit into my new office, with room to spare (I have a bookshelf and a filing drawer that are both mostly empty), and we managed to eat breakfast, move everything, unpack all the boxes and put everything away, set up my computer and clean my old office, in the hour and 45 minutes before our metered parking ran out.
B hurt himself though, before we even got to my office- we were sitting outside my building, eating breakfast, and when he got up he tripped over the wire that ties the chairs to the tables (most normal chairs don't have those wires! He's not often on my campus! How would he know!), fell over with the chair, and now has a crazy large and intense bruise on the side of his ass. All day long yesterday we kept checking it as it got darker and darker. It was disgustingly dark when I passed out at 8:30, and who knows how bad it will be today.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Too much
I always looked at people who were ABD and wondered how they spent so much time on research. They always seemed harried and running around from thing to thing. I didn't get it. They were done with classes, done with exams, most of them weren't teaching...what the heck were they spending all their time on?
Now I've become one of those people. I spend about 3 days a week working on my dissertation, one working on another ongoing research project, and one working on miscellaneous other things (right now: applying to jobs and revising my syllabus for next semester). And yet I never seem to get anything done. I remember last year taking every Friday off, and yet feeling like I was getting an insane amount of work done. And yet now, it's the freakin summer, I'm going into my office 5 days a week, and spending long hours there (I'll be here until at least 6 or 7 tonight), and then coming home and feeling guilty cause there's still more things I can be doing instead of watching the Olympics.
The whole summer went by so fast. I had four months off from any teaching work. What did I accomplish? I wrote and defended my dissertation proposal, and got a very good start on my dissertation research. I revised and resubmitted a paper to a journal. I revised and submitted an old paper to a different journal. I did a bunch of research for an ongoing project, but we still haven't gotten any final results, or written up anything. I submitted a proposal to a conference, and was accepted. I submitted a grant proposal that I still haven't heard back from. I wrote a cover letter template for job applications, but still need to write a research and teaching statement. I also need to start sending out applications, as deadlines are a month from now. I started working on revising my syllabus for next semester (at least I've revised the dates, but I still want to change some of the readings). Today I renewed my student ID, which expires after four years. The semester starts in less than 3 weeks.
I went to 3 music festivals and will go to a fourth next weekend. I went to the ASAs and had two job interviews, and nearly had a nervous breakdown. I spent a week in the midwest at B's parent's house. I got engaged, and booked a venue for the wedding, but haven't done much else. I went to a few concerts, but not nearly as many as I would have liked to. I walked to school and back almost every day of the week (2 miles round trip), and my legs still hurt at the end of every walk (when does that stop?).
And now the summer is nearly over. Back to school advertisements are everywhere. More and more undergraduates are on campus everyday. I haven't been swimming once. I spent far too little time outside. I spent almost no time in the park. I haven't spent much time with friends...but most of my friends don't live nearbye anymore. But I haven't traveled to see them either. I spent too much time watching tv. I spend too many nights going to sleep at 9pm, exhausted from a day spent re-coding variables on a more-confusing-than-necessary dataset.
I'm moving my office tomorrow. I spent some of today packing up all my stuff- it took 8 boxes to pack up 4 years worth of crap, that somehow all fit into my tiny cubicle and on 2 shelves of a shared bookcase. I went up to my newly vacated office, and rearranged furniture so that I'm closer to the window and a bit more isolated from my new officemate. Not totally isolated, but there's a tall filing cabinet between us. B is coming in tomorrow to help me move. I worry that all my stuff won't fit in the new office, even though I will have a filing cabinet twice the size and a bookcase of my very own. I'm no longer going to spend my days in a cubicle. I'm moving on up.
Now I've become one of those people. I spend about 3 days a week working on my dissertation, one working on another ongoing research project, and one working on miscellaneous other things (right now: applying to jobs and revising my syllabus for next semester). And yet I never seem to get anything done. I remember last year taking every Friday off, and yet feeling like I was getting an insane amount of work done. And yet now, it's the freakin summer, I'm going into my office 5 days a week, and spending long hours there (I'll be here until at least 6 or 7 tonight), and then coming home and feeling guilty cause there's still more things I can be doing instead of watching the Olympics.
The whole summer went by so fast. I had four months off from any teaching work. What did I accomplish? I wrote and defended my dissertation proposal, and got a very good start on my dissertation research. I revised and resubmitted a paper to a journal. I revised and submitted an old paper to a different journal. I did a bunch of research for an ongoing project, but we still haven't gotten any final results, or written up anything. I submitted a proposal to a conference, and was accepted. I submitted a grant proposal that I still haven't heard back from. I wrote a cover letter template for job applications, but still need to write a research and teaching statement. I also need to start sending out applications, as deadlines are a month from now. I started working on revising my syllabus for next semester (at least I've revised the dates, but I still want to change some of the readings). Today I renewed my student ID, which expires after four years. The semester starts in less than 3 weeks.
I went to 3 music festivals and will go to a fourth next weekend. I went to the ASAs and had two job interviews, and nearly had a nervous breakdown. I spent a week in the midwest at B's parent's house. I got engaged, and booked a venue for the wedding, but haven't done much else. I went to a few concerts, but not nearly as many as I would have liked to. I walked to school and back almost every day of the week (2 miles round trip), and my legs still hurt at the end of every walk (when does that stop?).
And now the summer is nearly over. Back to school advertisements are everywhere. More and more undergraduates are on campus everyday. I haven't been swimming once. I spent far too little time outside. I spent almost no time in the park. I haven't spent much time with friends...but most of my friends don't live nearbye anymore. But I haven't traveled to see them either. I spent too much time watching tv. I spend too many nights going to sleep at 9pm, exhausted from a day spent re-coding variables on a more-confusing-than-necessary dataset.
I'm moving my office tomorrow. I spent some of today packing up all my stuff- it took 8 boxes to pack up 4 years worth of crap, that somehow all fit into my tiny cubicle and on 2 shelves of a shared bookcase. I went up to my newly vacated office, and rearranged furniture so that I'm closer to the window and a bit more isolated from my new officemate. Not totally isolated, but there's a tall filing cabinet between us. B is coming in tomorrow to help me move. I worry that all my stuff won't fit in the new office, even though I will have a filing cabinet twice the size and a bookcase of my very own. I'm no longer going to spend my days in a cubicle. I'm moving on up.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Still angry
Coincidentally, after I wrote that post yesterday, my dad sent me an email for the first time since he sent me that one saying he won't be coming to my wedding (and since I sent back that other one saying he's still welcome to come, which he never wrote back to).
Not going to post the email here, but here's a summary: "Blah blah, your senile grandfather is moving up to our house from Florida and we are currently looking for an apartment for him; Blah blah we're going to a conference this week, and then we're going to Florida for a wedding; nothing about B; still no mention about B; oh by the way we're going to a wedding in Florida next week which I mentioned- remember that guy I was friends with who moved to Florida about 14 years ago? Well his son, who I haven't seen since he was around 10, is getting married, so I'm going to his son's wedding."
So great. The first communication in a month, no mention of B, and my dad tells me all about how he's going to be flying down to florida for a wedding of someone who he HASN'T SEEN SINCE HE WAS TEN YEARS OLD, a month after telling me he can't drive TWO FUCKING HOURS to attend my wedding because I didn't make the exact same decisions as him.
I can only conclude from this email that my dad is the biggest douchebag on the planet and is deliberately trying to taunt me, or he is so clueless that he doesn't even realize how hurtful reading that is for me.
Last night, after reading that email, I had a dream that I was moving into a new house with my family. One of my brothers got a beautiful room with huge stained glass windows. My other brother got a huge room, that was really like 3 rooms with the walls knocked down, combined into one huge room. Also he had a butler. For some reason a prof from my program had a room next to my brother's room.
I got a room in the building next door, dormitory style, shared with 7 other people. When I tried to ask my mother if I could move into the same house as the rest of the family, she refused to even talk to me.
Hmm, I wonder what that could mean.
Not going to post the email here, but here's a summary: "Blah blah, your senile grandfather is moving up to our house from Florida and we are currently looking for an apartment for him; Blah blah we're going to a conference this week, and then we're going to Florida for a wedding; nothing about B; still no mention about B; oh by the way we're going to a wedding in Florida next week which I mentioned- remember that guy I was friends with who moved to Florida about 14 years ago? Well his son, who I haven't seen since he was around 10, is getting married, so I'm going to his son's wedding."
So great. The first communication in a month, no mention of B, and my dad tells me all about how he's going to be flying down to florida for a wedding of someone who he HASN'T SEEN SINCE HE WAS TEN YEARS OLD, a month after telling me he can't drive TWO FUCKING HOURS to attend my wedding because I didn't make the exact same decisions as him.
I can only conclude from this email that my dad is the biggest douchebag on the planet and is deliberately trying to taunt me, or he is so clueless that he doesn't even realize how hurtful reading that is for me.
Last night, after reading that email, I had a dream that I was moving into a new house with my family. One of my brothers got a beautiful room with huge stained glass windows. My other brother got a huge room, that was really like 3 rooms with the walls knocked down, combined into one huge room. Also he had a butler. For some reason a prof from my program had a room next to my brother's room.
I got a room in the building next door, dormitory style, shared with 7 other people. When I tried to ask my mother if I could move into the same house as the rest of the family, she refused to even talk to me.
Hmm, I wonder what that could mean.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Cancer Cancer Cancer Cancer
Tomorrow morning I find out about whether or not I have that genetic mutation that will pretty much assure I get cancer of some kind. Ok, not 100%, but with a 80% chance of breast cancer and a 45% chance of ovarian cancer (and an elevated chance of colon and pancreatic cancer), I'd probably get one of them. In case you're new here- my dad has this genetic mutation (BRCA1 mutation) and I have a 50% chance of having it too. I got tested about 6 weeks ago and find out the results tomorrow.
Meanwhile I have a moral dilemma. See, when I got tested, my dad (who insisted I get tested) told me he would pay for the gentic testing, which costs around $550 total. He immediately paid the $150 I had to pay a genetic counselor, and I put the rest on my health insurance.
Two days ago I got a notification from my health insurance saying that I would be responsible for up to $285 of the cost of the testing.
Now, on the one hand...My dad told me he would pay for this testing, and I underwent the testing under the assumption that he would pay for it.
On the other hand, My dad told me he would pay for this testing when I got the test, but between then and now (when I find out the results) I also got engaged. I haven't talked to my dad since I sent him that email about coming to my wedding. Or my mom. And I kinda would like to keep it that way. I've decided at this point that if they want a relationship with me, the ball is in their court re: contacting me. And they haven't.
On the other hand, since my dad paid that initial $150, arn't I ethically responsible to report to him the results of my genetic testing? I can just ask him for money when telling him the results.
On the other hand, my health is my own business, not his, I hate asking my dad for money (that $150 was the first time I asked for money since I left for graduate school almost four years ago), and I don't want to ask him for more money.
On the other hand, $285 is a LOT of money, especially when I don't have income this summer. That's like half my share of the rent. And if I have the genetic mutation, there's a whole bunch of co-pay's in my future for a yearly Breast MRI and yearly Mammogram. And inevitably ovary-removal surgery. And you know...treating cancer when I get it and stuff.
On the other hand, I spent almost that much money last weekend at the ASAs, and isn't my health more important than my career? I can afford it, but it would be money I could have spent on my wedding, on put in my savings to buy a house, or on mental-health related vacations. Or on stuff like rent and food. Since I"m pretty much living off of savings until the end of September.
So it seems I have arrived at this compromise in my head. If I don't have the genetic mutation, I will happily eat the cost of testing, and maybe send my dad a text message saying I don't have it. If I do have the genetic mutation, I will suck up my pride and ask for the money, cause it's going to be a long expensive journey afterwards. But maybe still text message him, cause I'm not quite at the point where I want to talk to him on the phone.
Although it's always possible I will change my mind when it comes to actually text messaging him, and decide $285 is worth it not to contact him.
Bleh.
Meanwhile I have a moral dilemma. See, when I got tested, my dad (who insisted I get tested) told me he would pay for the gentic testing, which costs around $550 total. He immediately paid the $150 I had to pay a genetic counselor, and I put the rest on my health insurance.
Two days ago I got a notification from my health insurance saying that I would be responsible for up to $285 of the cost of the testing.
Now, on the one hand...My dad told me he would pay for this testing, and I underwent the testing under the assumption that he would pay for it.
On the other hand, My dad told me he would pay for this testing when I got the test, but between then and now (when I find out the results) I also got engaged. I haven't talked to my dad since I sent him that email about coming to my wedding. Or my mom. And I kinda would like to keep it that way. I've decided at this point that if they want a relationship with me, the ball is in their court re: contacting me. And they haven't.
On the other hand, since my dad paid that initial $150, arn't I ethically responsible to report to him the results of my genetic testing? I can just ask him for money when telling him the results.
On the other hand, my health is my own business, not his, I hate asking my dad for money (that $150 was the first time I asked for money since I left for graduate school almost four years ago), and I don't want to ask him for more money.
On the other hand, $285 is a LOT of money, especially when I don't have income this summer. That's like half my share of the rent. And if I have the genetic mutation, there's a whole bunch of co-pay's in my future for a yearly Breast MRI and yearly Mammogram. And inevitably ovary-removal surgery. And you know...treating cancer when I get it and stuff.
On the other hand, I spent almost that much money last weekend at the ASAs, and isn't my health more important than my career? I can afford it, but it would be money I could have spent on my wedding, on put in my savings to buy a house, or on mental-health related vacations. Or on stuff like rent and food. Since I"m pretty much living off of savings until the end of September.
So it seems I have arrived at this compromise in my head. If I don't have the genetic mutation, I will happily eat the cost of testing, and maybe send my dad a text message saying I don't have it. If I do have the genetic mutation, I will suck up my pride and ask for the money, cause it's going to be a long expensive journey afterwards. But maybe still text message him, cause I'm not quite at the point where I want to talk to him on the phone.
Although it's always possible I will change my mind when it comes to actually text messaging him, and decide $285 is worth it not to contact him.
Bleh.
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