From December, I’ll be based in London instead. Very sad to leave my friends and this city – which I still think is the most beautiful city on earth, but looking forward to the new team and being closer to my family (and, to be honest, everything. Sydney is amazing, but remote).
October, I’ll be in the US for Grace Hopper(!) and an internal training course, relaxing in Bali, and heading back to the UK.
November, I’ll be heading to Barcelona, Kitchener-Waterloo (Canada), Iceland, and Portugal.
I saw someone I hadn’t seen in a while, as part of enquiring how I was, he asked specifically how my blog was.
I quipped,
Oh the internet’s good. It’s the real world I have problems with.
Credit: flickr / Scoobymoo
Lately, that keeps coming back to me. I feel like reality has a big stick that it’s beating me with. Dealing with legal issues – like how do I disclose something that I can’t reveal the name of? Panic, because (for unknown reasons) when I filed my tax return my postcode got changed, and then I couldn’t verify who I was, couldn’t change my address until I had a new number, which couldn’t happen until I’d moved… and then the postal service work it out and it’s a bill, not a return, because there was some interim letter that of course, didn’t arrive. Returning home from New York to discover that my electricity had been disconnected (why that happened is a long story), and that the fire alarm wouldn’t stop beeping. Discovering that the power being returned wouldn’t fix it, attacking it with a broom, trying to find 9V batteries at 9pm on a Sunday, climbing a terrifying 10ft ladder and pulling it apart – to no avail! Eventually my friend brought her brother who rescued me from the beeping. Once it had stopped – nearly 24 hours after I’d returned – I was still tense, waiting for the sound again.
I don’t think people who know me would describe me as a practical person. I can’t rewire a plug, or hang a picture. I did not enjoy the time I spent up the ladder. I am easily overwhelmed by forms and bureaucracy.
Mostly, I tick along. Bills arrive – preferably electronically – and I pay them. I managed to master filing my tax return, at least, even if it then went horribly wrong. Periodically something like that, or a form, arrives, and I procrastinate, prevaricate, and eventually take care of it and wonder why I didn’t do it sooner.
However, there’s nothing like moving to bring out the real world. And – Canada is still foreign to me, so still I often have no clue what’s happening or how things work.
Meanwhile, I turn things into intricate dependency chains because I want to optimize everything. For example, I’m heading back to Europe shortly. I need a new passport and to see a doctor about my shoulder. But, I’m agonizing about the optimal time to go – and freaking out, because if I go away for a week and return to no electricity and 24 hours of incessant beeping (which caused me to think I was losing my mind), what will I return to if I leave for the better part of a month?
It’s probably fine. I should just choose a flight – and make it work. I’m good at airports. After much practise as an international hobo, I’ve got pretty good at packing. I’m good at making the most of the situation that is. If I could just be a little less of a dreamer, and panic less about what might, I’d be a lot better off.
Credit: xkcd
For example, I’m spending the holiday with my boyfriend’s family. If he can move to Canada, I should be able to cope with that – even if they are all 6ft tall and terrifying. Working out how to get to Scotland, I’ve presented him with at least 5 highly plausible (to me) situations featuring death (from us driving a smart car/me driving stick), nervous breakdown (lack of escape route and terror by family) and breaking up (from him trying to teach me to drive stick). The benefit of dating someone I’ve known for a long time is that this level of neuroticism doesn’t faze him in fact he seems to find it amusing. Long may that continue.
Actually the story I should be telling myself is that we’ll go up in a manual car. He’ll drive. We’ll have a nice time – I’ll be charming, and his family, although giant, will be lovely. And then we’ll leave, and I’ll head back to Canada, to find my apartment intact, the power on, and a cheque from the tax man waiting.
Or not. And if not, I’ll work it out.
Still feeling shaken up from the beeping and stressed about the tax issues, I took some Cate-time and read The Undomestic Goddess (Amazon). It was really the perfect book for the mood I was in! I calmed down and realized that reality can be overwhelming when you’re already stressed, and I shouldn’t beat myself up for not coping better with it. I am tremendously fortunate, but it’s hard to keep that in perspective when every few minutes you hear “beep — low battery — faible”. It’s all fixable – but it’s okay to be stressed by a sudden demand from the tax man.
I had the best time in Extreme Blue. I learned so much. I met such cool people. It was awesome.
The summer though, was a terrible time to take off from my thesis. So close to the end. So clear on what I was doing. So motivated to ESCAPE and move on to the real world…
And then I spent the summer in the real world, and it was everything I hoped for. And now I’m back in my windowless office, back in my grad student life – others also desperate to get away, some hiding from the military (yes, really), some viewing it as a life-style choice (OK those I mostly avoid).
Meanwhile, I’ve been stressed by situations like this. Saddened by this. My personal life – let’s not go there. And rushing about like a crazy person – I just spent my first 7 days straight in Ottawa since the start of August. I’d say it was bliss, but I was so exhausted by everything I promptly got sick.
I’m moving at the end of this month, and I keep asking myself (and those around me) “How do I do this?” How do I pack everything in that I need to do? I’ve been trying to split my day into sections – prioritize working out in the morning, grad school during the day, and friends during the evening.
This works up to a point, but mostly I just feel overwhelmed. Packing my life into boxes, again, is hard – and hasn’t got that much easier with practise. Saying goodbye to people is sad, and the number of places I’ve left just means I’ve learned how few people stay in touch. Finishing a thesis is hard. And made harder by the fact that my supervisor said, “I don’t know what you’re doing so you’ll just work with your co-supervisor” – I have literally been given away.
The next few weeks are going to be rough. I know that I can’t do it all, but I have no idea what I can cut.
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