Not Used to Being Read

 Today, as I opened my blog editor, I noticed that my past few posts had two views. Since I don't remember going back to them, it can only mean that someone else has read my blog. I haven't publicized my blog, and its been years since I gave anyone the link to it. But, seeing that someone else had read my blog feels oddly discomfiting. I feel like my posts have become more personal over the years. In the early years, I was eager to impart my newfound wisdom to the blogosphere. While the events in my life certainly had a bearing on my thinking, I would refer to them in a roundabout manner to make it difficult for someone with a curious bent of mine (like me) to glean what was happening in my life. Over the years, I feel like I have thrown that initial caution to the winds, writing with the implicit assumption that no one else would read my words. But, it was still important to write those words in a blog that could technically be accessed by anyone. Blogging is therapeutic but its not therapeutic writing. Its a tool of self-expression, of making sense of some of the things in my life and universe, as well as making peace with some of the more unsavoury aspects of life. However, in hindsight, it does fell like my blog has become more diarish. Now, that I know someone else may be reading my blog, maybe that awareness will swing the pendulum in the other direction. Make my blog more muse-y and less diarish. 

Home At Last

I have finally made it home. Actually, I got home last morning, but was too wiped out to write about it yesterday. As soon as I left the airport building, I felt s vast tiredness engulf me. As I walked to the taxi stand, I could feel my head spin like it hadn't in years. If I didn't know this sensation to be a symptom of anxiety I would have been positively alarmed. But, I do know, so I shrugged it off. The cab ride home in a rickketty taxi that managed to hit every pothole. and through a smog was an assault on each of my senses. I could barely sit straight on the sofa when I made it home. There were no tears when I saw my parents lat morning or my sister last evening. I was too tired for that. If I had hoped that on my seeing my family I would burst into tears that would wash away the trauma of the past few years, I was wrong. Life, and trauma , are more complicated than that. I managed to get a few hours of sleep in the morning, but continued to feel groggy through the day. I knew I was tired an I knew I the lightheadedness once |I had rested a bit. What will happen about my PTSD, I don't know. Today, I struggled to find books or movies that I enjoyed. I was also assailed by guilt about not working on my PhD. However, later in the day, when I came across the collection that had ignited my love affair with short stories. It had been gifted to me by my parents 18 years ago. I read the short story that had moved me that most at the time, and I was moved by it once again. I also found a few other books that look interesting, so I should be fine for a few days at least. I will need to make up my mind about whether I should try working on my PhD during my time in India. I am fairly certain that I will decide not to, but I am not at that place yet. Maybe I should write to my supervisor and see what she says? But, the important thing is to stick to my decision once I have made up my mind. 

Last Night in Bristol

 I have so much to say, that I am afraid I will end up saying very little. I don't know where to start. When I returned from India in Oct. 2019, I remember vowing that on my next trip to India, I wouldn't have the cloud of the PhD hanging over me. It would be purely a leisure trip. Well, the best laid plans of mice and men. I am not going to summarize the last two years in a nutshell, but I am not done with my PhD and have no plans to work on my PhD during this holiday. Even so, it won't be purely a leisure trip. I will have grading and teaching prep to do. I am trying to tell myself to let the universe unfold as it should. The recent past has been brutal and the future is uncertain. I don't know what else to say. I have spent the past three weeks petrified that I won't make it to India this winter, and how I would cope if I didn't. But, all my bags are packed and I am ready to go. 

Crunch Night

 I am proud that I didn't lay in bed consumed with anxiety today. I am consumed with anxiety, but I managed to do everything that I had planned--go for my fit-to-fly test, drop in at uni to pick up FFP2 masks, do my laundry, cook lunch, do GMB and yoga and write this blog. I even toyed with the idea of starting grading the op-eds, but abandoned it soon enough. The Covid news is getting grimmer by the day, and I have spent the past few days oscillating between fretting about testing positive for Covid and the possibility that India will impose hotel quarantine or close the borders. Well, tonight is the night. By tomorrow morning, I will know whether I am fit to fly. By tomorrow lunch time, I will know whether I will have to quarantine in a hotel (provided I test negative, of course). Rule changes usually come with a few day's notice, and any changes after tomorrow likely won't apply to me.  

100 Quid Spaffed Up The Wall

This morning, I woke up at 3am panicking that my PCR test would not be delivered today. I managed to go back to a fitful sleep but most of  my day was spent waiting for the test, including two hours on hold with the test provider's call centre. I had a feeling it wouldn't arrive on time and it didn't. The call centre people told me that it would likely arrive tomorrow, in which case I could still expect to have the result before I fly. I decided that was cutting it too fine for me. My nerves are frazzled as it is, and I could do without more last-minute stress. So, I decided to ditch this test and cough up 100 quid for a 24-hour guaranteed result test. It is a lot of money, but there are few better uses of money than to buy peace of mind. Yes, 100 pounds is not much less than what I spend on groceries in a month. But, these are extraordinary times, which call for extraordinary measures. What if after all this, I test positive or if my flight is cancelled? I won't be crying over the 100 quid, in that case. I would havve plenty of other stuff to cry about. 

Waiting For Another Covid Test

No sooner does one stressor disappear than another one materializes. I ordered a home PCR test as soon as I got the result from the NHS PCR test, but there is no sign that it has been dispatched so far. I know that parcels move between depots in the night so that can be delivered to customers during the day, and I hope that I will wake up to word that the test is on its way. If not, I will have to chase it tomorrow, which I am really not looking forward. If there is till no sign of it tomorrow I will have to book a rapid PCR test that will cost a sixth of my return ticket to India. I realise that even if it arrives tomorrow, I will not be completely at ease as I will be nervous about the result. And, when I get a negative result, I will be nervous about last-minute rules changes of flight cancellations. 

Covid Test Negative!

 I wasn't expecting my Covid test today. Based on my experience with PCR testing last year, I wouldn't have been surprised if I didn't get the result at all. But, I tracked the test on Royal Mail this morning, and learnt that it had been delivered, which raised my hopes that I would at least get a result, and not be left to wilt with uncertainty. I had decided that if the test came back positive I would wait till as late as possible to take the fit-to-fly test to give the virus more time to leave my body. I had abandoned my plan to get someone else to take the PCT test, after my sis pointed out that if I did that and tested positive at Mumbai airport, I would b whisked away to quarantine. But, I knew a positive would be a huge blow to me. It would delay my tri and every day of delay would increase the chances of tighter quarantine rules in India or flight cancellations. So, imagine my surprise when I got a mail a few minutes after 5pm today saying I had tested negative? There is still plenty that could go wrong between now and Saturday and beyond. But, one step at a time. 

Everything Going Pear-Shaped

 So, this morning, just as I was about to get ready to go for my PCR test, I got a text saying my test had been cancelled as that centre would be closed today. Just when I thought my luck couldn't get worse--not so much as a cold in more than two years, and falling sick the week before I am due to fly home. I quickly booked a home PCR test, but it didn't arrive today. Hopefully, it will arrive tomorrow, and God knows when the results will reach me. I am under no illusions that the next six days are going to be agonizing. The only question is how bad. Then, as I was finishing my yoga, the only time of the day I feel sane, it struck me that I could order a home fit-to-fly test and have someone else take the swab for me. Immediately, my mind leapt into overdrive. Whom can I ask? What if they are asymptomatic but positive? Should I ask someone who has recently had Covid? What if they turn out to be positive because of residual antigens? What if I manage to fly but test positive at Mumbai airport? And, the panic over Omicron seems to be getting worse by the day. I really don't know what to do. I guess I will just sleep over it and see how I feel tomorrow.

The Main Thing To Do Is Not Panic

 I started an email to a student with these words. He had written to me saying he is not able to write anything for his assignment and wrote to me asking for advice. I am going through my shit of my own and would do well to heed my own advice. Yesterday, I thought I was getting better, but it turns out that is not the case. Today, my fever crept back again and my nose is still running like a tap. I have registered for a PCR test tomorrow morning. If it turns out positive, the next few weeks will be filled with anxiety and/or ill health. If it turns out negative, the next seven days will be filled with anxiety and/or ill health. Even if its negative, I will not rest easy until my fit-to-fly test comes back negative. When you can't hang your hopes on a single moment in time or a single outcome the main thing to do is not to panic. Bad outcomes will feel like the end of the world, but will not be the end of the world. 

Sore Throat Turns To Cold

 Falling asleep last night was not easy. I was running a slight fever, but not sick enough to not be anxious about the possibility of having Covid. As I have realised, anxiety takes up energy, so if you are sick enough, you cannot be anxious at the same time. Of course, I could be horribly wrong about this. But, I fell asleep at some point last night, and woke up feeling much better. The soreness in my throat had reduced and my fever had gone away too. I had a good start to the day--yoga, a hot shower, breakfast on time, and a stab at doing some work. It felt like a tap had turned on in my nose, and there was a steady drip through the day. All in all, felt better today, and also anxiety levels were lower. 

Covid Scare

 Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I am in the middle of a Covid scare. I have had a scratch throat since yesterday morning and I have also been feeling slightly feverish. I have had Covid scares before, but the symptoms usually disappeared overnight. I am aware that this time if I have Covid I might not be able to travel to India as scheduled. But, that does not mean I won't be able to travel to India at all. The start of the next semester is eight weeks away. That is a hell of a lot of time to make a reasonably long trip to India. Maybe not 4 weeks but at least three weeks. This evening, while sitting on the loo, I decided that cost is not a constraint. At worst, I will have to buy a new return ticket to India. So be it, I can afford it. Even if I have to push my trip back by a few weeks, it is not the end of the world. Where there is a will, there is a way. There are a lot of things that are beyond my control. But, if I don't make it to India this winter, it won't be due to lack of trying.  And, if I do get Covid, at least I can be sure that I won't infect my family when I see them. And, another advantage of this Covid scare is that I am not going to stress about finishing my PhD by January-end. It has become crystal clear to me that its not a big deal if I don't finish my PhD by January-end. I am not going to stress about it. 

White Christmas

 This is the longest I have been away from my blog since T's passing more than three years ago. My last post was about the double blow of not finishing my PhD and not being able to visit home this December. The following day, we learnt that Maharashtra was bringing in a mandatory 7-day hotel quarantine followed by a 7-day home quarantine. That news knocked the stuffing out of me. I couldn't muster any motivation to work on my PhD. Neither could I bring myself to do yoga or blog. I found myself in a funk like none I have encountered before. But, apart from some exercise, all I have done over the past five days is binge watch Line of Duty. My flight is still 10 days away and the news on the Covid variant front just keeps getting worse. I have no idea if I will make it to India, and I won't know until my plane takes off. I don't think I am going to be very productive over the next 10 days or so, although this is supposed to be precious time that should be devoted to my PhD. If I don't manage to finish my PhD over the next two months, I wont' be able to get back to it till May or June. 

So, when I hear White Christmas play on the radio this morning, it lifted my spirits. There may be a pandemic on, but the world is still turning, the seasons are still changing. And, that's a lesson to keep in mind if I am not able to visit India this winter. I will be gutted, I might not get out of bed for a few days. But the world will keep on turning, time will keep on healing, and I will move past that setback. 

The song brought back memories of many a pleasant Christmas I have spent since moving out of India in 2014. I have spent five of the past seven Christmases in Europe. 

Double Blow

 If yesterday's dominant sentiment was "I am never going to finish my PhD", today's dominant sentiment is "I am not going to make it home this Christmas". I had plans to work furiously on my PHD today, but after the news that India is going to bring in airport PCR tests and 7-day quarantine, it knocked the air out of me. This was suposed to be the period when I start counting down towards departure date ith rising excitement. Now, its just going to be succession of anxieties until or if I make it home. Borders can be closed within a day's notice. Maybe I should have travelled during the summer instead of trying to finish my PhD, considering how swimmingly well that is going. 

Swinging between Hope and Despair

 I got the conceptual section of my PHD back from supervisor today and it came covered in red ink. That was not a complete surprise because I was not happy with it when I sent it. I was simply fed up of it. Anticipation dulls the surprise element of a shock but does little else. Since then, I have been swinging between hope and despair. I leapt into action and finished my infographics trading to clear my slate for the next few days. But, after returning home, I spent a good amount of time wallowing in thoughts such as "I will never finish my PhD", " I will need another year's extension if I don't finish by Jan-end", "m supervisor is useless", "Even if I finish my PhD, how will I ever have the confidence to write an academic paper again". I thought a good cry would help, but I wasn't able to muster the tears. That old trick of watching youtube videos of children in cancer hospitals singing Fight Song isn't working anymore. The next few days are going to be a whirlwind of emotions--Frustration and dejection with my PhD punctuated with hope-filled bursts, Covid fears, indecisiveness. There is nothing to do but throw myself in. 

Mainstream Micro Struggles

 I have never studies mainstream micro as an undergrad. I taught half a semester as an undergrad but that was piddly stuff compared to this. These people tach mainstream economics quite soundly. You can question how useful it is, but they know their stuff. The logic is sound, they are clear about their assumptions, and they have a reasonably good idea of what's happening in the real world. And, I must admit, I am having to exert myself to keep up. I am having to learn so that I can teach and realizing that there are different layers of understanding, even for introductory economics concepts. I shouldn't reach the deeper layers at the first go. But every iteration deepens my understanding of the issue. I am struggling so that my students don't suffer because of my disillusionment with mainstream economics. It is also a humbling experience. Sometimes, we dismiss something as unsound just because we don't understand it. And unsound is not the same as unrealistic and useless, which I still believe mainstream economics is, for the most part. 

Death

I got news today that a family friend battling with late-stage cancer in India passed. Her kids are my age. Her lung cancer wasn't detected till a few weeks ago, possibly because people with coughs have been told to stay away from doctors. In this pandemic, I have learnt that there are certain no-go areas of the imagination which must be avoided because my imagination is not powerful enough to contemplate those possibilities fully, and if it was, the contemplation would be too painful. So imagining those possibilities is either a frivolous exercise or an exceedingly painful one. Possibilities such as what if that had been one of my parents or my sister in that situation. 

Zero Fucks To Give

I always thought my officemate was a straight-as-a-arrow nerd. I was right about the nerd part but he is not as rule-abiding as I thought he was. It turns out he told his class not to bother submitting the formative assignments, and now I have a newfound respect for him. Like me, he is on a "teaching" track where we are supposed to give students as much care and attention as would a private school, and gives zero fucks. He skips seminar questions he doesn't like and now this. I should take some lessons from him. Grading on one of the modules has caused me a lot of grief and I need to remind myself not to care so much about it. if the unit director thinks my marks are too low, I can bump the grades up, I don't care. You want me to give a mediocre assignment an 80, I will, I don't care. I refuse to see your comments on my grading as a reflection of my ability because I am not doing my best and I don't want to do my best. I am not going to build a career in this place so I just need to make sure I don't screw up. Don't be the last to turn grades in, don't pick fights with students or staff, don't bring unwanted attention to yourself. This is just a landing pad as I come out of my PhD. That's all it is. 

Twitter Friend

 I went for drinks with my office colleagues yesterday, The evening started off slowly but it wasn't too bad. I had a decent enough time. I don't think I will be fast friends with any of them, but they are decent people for the most part. I don't mind hanging out with them once in a while. And, then, today, I met someone I know who Twitter. And, it turns out her brother and I were roommates at a summer school. Small world indeed. 

Good Day

'Everything is cyclical', as Adrienne says. After a lousy day yesterday, the pendulum swung back. Today, was a good day. My teaching session went well, grading was not as tedious as I imagined, and every day brings me closer to home. Also, it turns out every tutor had a lousy seminar session yesterday, and as a result the unit director has decided to redo next week's session. Even yesterday, I knew my cause for distress was unfounded and that the session would bomb for every tutor, but it was heartening to see confirmation today. The trials and tribulations of this semester are not over yet. How quickly I can get through my work depends, for a large part, on two other people, and they could yet be a source of frustration. But, it is important to keep in mind that everything is cyclical, there are good days and there are bad days, sometimes there are many bad days in succession, but that doesn't mean the good days will never come back. 

Dog Day Indeed

It was indeed a dog day. My seminar went horribly, with even my best students struggling to keep up. I know it was not my fault. Even before the seminar, I knew it was going to be tough going. But, I am sick of being proved right when I anticipate the bad stuff, and wrong when I anticipate good stuff. Everything that I expect to be difficult is every bit as difficult. Every thing that I expect to be easy also turns out to be more difficult. I know its a job for life, and I keep telling myself that I should care less. My priority should be to survive and finish my PhD. Not impress anyone. DO enough to stay out of trouble. You cannot inspire and open the minds of your students by teaching this economics. If not you, someone else will confuse them, bore them to bits, disillusion them, or corrupt them so that they start believing that what they study is worthwhile, even important. This is not a job for life. This is not a job for life. This is not a job for life. 

Dog Day Tomorrow

 Tomorrow is going it be gruelling. Six hours of teaching, in a repeat of my birthday Monday. The night before my birthday was also when my second run of bad sleep started. which led me to get a sleeping ills prescription a few weeks later. But, I am sleeping better now, aided no doubt, by the knowledge that every day brings me closer to the end of a soul-sapping term and to my India visit. I still have a lot of work over the next four weeks, but come December, the excitement for the holidays will propel me forward. The lgiht at the end of the tunnel shines brighter every day. As for tomorrow, I have resolved to take a 10 minute toilet break in the middle of each session. Sit on the pot, put my earphones on, and listen to some music. Carve some relaxation time out for myself. Leave as soon as I am done for the day, and take the edge off with a beer in the evening. 

Patience With Students

Over the past two semesters, I have discovered that I am good at interacting with students. This is based on how students respond to me. I have always known that I have a knack of explaining things well, a kill no doubt honed during my time as a journalist. But, here I am talking about my blackboard-side manner. I have a good board-side manner. However, I am still an introvert and long interaction with students sap the energy out of me. Yesterday, I spent one hour teaching a boy who had missed some students and am pretty sure had made no effort to catch up. Since he has taken a liking to me (he was the one who said he he was lucky to have me as a personal tutor) I feel a little guilty being annoyed at him. But, he did irritate the hell out of me yesterday. However, I did not let my irritation show, and that is all that matters. There will obviously be times when students test my patience and/or annoy me. Fortunately, I don't ahvev an anger management problem and can mask my irritation well. 

Words of Validation

 Today, for the first time since I joined, a senior colleague complimented my work. Maybe she was just being nice, but so what? You feel nice when people are nice to you. I keep telling myself all that matters is I don't do a terrible job. The university in in chaos and everyone is too busy dealing with their own shit. It is easy to stay below the radar if you don't screw up massively. But, being invisible has its benefits but also costs. I don't feel like part of the department at all, and while my personality is more suited than most to deal with alienation of this sort, it does chaff sometimes. Also, I am working hard and its good to receive acknowledgement of my efforts. 

Strike Action

News came this evening that UCU will be striking for three days next month. My first reaction was relief that I don't have face-to-face teaching on those days, so I won't have to break a picket line. I can quietly hide away at home. I remember I spent an anxious morning last week wondering what I would do if a strike was called. It was a case of be damned (by the department) if I did, and damned (by my conscience if I don't. Obviously, this predicament is not going to go away, and it will likely hit me some time next year. But, I will cross that bridge when I come to it. There are many bridges ahead of me and the world, and there is no point in thinking about them until they materialize. In fact, not thinking about them may be an essential survival skill. Right now, I am just focussed on surviving till my India trip. 

Cracking On

I used to think that the response to a stressful situation is usually to take a step back, be kind to yourself and all that jazz. But, lately, I have observed that backing away can make a stressful or overwhelming situation more stressful. Today, for instance, I was feeling overwhelmed by how much I have to do at work. I considered quitting for the day and going home. But, then, I decided to slog and flog  the stress out of the overwhelming situation until it became or at least felt more manageable. And, it worked. That has been the pattern over the past few weeks. Working has been giving me a reprieve from stress. I  don't know if this is sustainable and whether I am setting myself up for a burnout. Or, if I have become better at judging when to  push and when to back off. 

Busy Two Weeks Ahead

 The next two weeks are going to be busy. Heavier teaching load, some grading and my PhD. Once I am on the other side, my India trip will be within shouting distance. All I have to do is hang in there. Exactly on week ago, I  was gripped by anxiety and didn't sleep  a wink that night. I had to teach a class the next day and also deal with the bullshit about taking leave to go to India. There will be nasty surprises in the net two weeks. But, the light at the end of the tunnel will  provide succour to me. I just have to pace myself, remember to breathe and remember to laugh from time to time. 

Mind-Body: Which follows which

The mind-body connection is endlessly fascinating and often disturbing. On Sunday, I suddenly started feeling cold and trembling. My  first instinct was that I was coming down with something, but it wasn't that familiar under-the-weather feeling that prompts me to take a crocin. This was something else and by night time I knew what it was because I didn't sleep a wink. It was good ole anxiety. I had to teach the next day, which made it worse. I thought it would taper down after I had finished my class, but it got worse, and Monday night was a bad night too. I mended fences with one of my housemates because I wanted to borrow weed from him, but the weed made it worse. I started having proper tremors. In the past few days, I have been taking half a sleeping pill before bed. Which brings me to the subject of today's blog. In my mind, I  know this ordeal will end in a few weeks, and I will see my family after more than two years. All my worries--about the visa, about getting a month away--proved to be unfounded. My work load is not as bad as it was a few weeks ago. So, if mind is, or should be, more at ease, why is my body behaving this way? Is it just the accumulated stress that is now showing because I am struggling to stay afloat? Trying to fathom the ways of the mind and the body is an ambitious exercise. In the depths of sleeplessness, one feels like one will never sleep soundly again. That every evening will be accompanies by sleep anxiety. That the smallest hiccup will keep one up all night. One feels frazzled and fragile. 

Iss Himalaya Se koi Ganga Niklani Chahiye

I've recently discovered some inspiring shayaaris and I can't get the one I heard today out of my head. The first line goes: The pain has mounted beyond bearing, must melt now. The Himalaysa must part and the Ganga must flow. It is a prayer for seismic social change--no compromises, no half measures. The old social order must be uprooted.  'its not enough that the wall has started to shake like a curtain. It must be uprooted from the foundation' I couldn't help but think that it fitted my situation with the PHD. The pian has become unbearable, it must melt now and the Ganga (my phD) must flow out of this mountain. 

Pot Remedy

 Last night I didn't sleep a wink. I haven't slept well since the beginning of September, but this night was the worst since 2017. When you don't sleep well you feel like a zombie the next day. I had to teach today, and I have often noticed that I sleep badly on Sunday nights. But, I knew I had to plow on and I didn't let it affect my teaching. I even had a bit of a boost when I booked my tickets to India. But, when that high died down, my anxiety came back in full force. I could even feel myself trembling with anxiety. Another sleepless night didn't sound so appealing, so I borrowed a joint from my housemate. But, it seems to have made my anxiety worse rather than better. Maybe I will have to see a doc and get on anti-anxiety meds. 

Eye Of A Storm

 At yoga last week, the instructor talked about how we need to be the eye of the coming storms. Since we can't expect any help from the world, we will need to find equanimity from within. I am doing yoga, I am trying to keep myself healthy, but I need to do better with self-talk. I don't think I tell myself enough how well I have coped over the past week/month/year/years. I am doing the best I can in a tough situation, and that's all I can do. I need to remind myself of how well I have weathered past storms, and I have weathered most of them alone. I have got post-it notes stuck right above my computer, and I haven't looked at them in months. "Trust", "Accept", "I've got this", "be open", But, I'm here", "Let It be", "I Enjoy". I need to look at them more. 

COP26 Protest

When a friend asked me if I wanted to come along to the COP26 protest with him, his family and friends, I was initially reticent. I thought it would be a white family affair, and as a single non-white person I would feel out of place. But, then I decided to go along just to do something different this weekend. My initial suspicion was right, and the bike ride to the centre was very much a white family affair and I felt very much out of place. But, things got better after that. It was interesting to observe what kind of people were there, what protest signs were they carrying, etc. And, it was nice to be around kids for a change. On the way back from the protest we stopped over at a pub for beer and snacks and we had a very pleasant time. I had plans to work on my PhD as well as prep for Monday teaching, but I didn't do either, and I am glad I didn't. I needed a break. I have realised that forcing myself to work just means that I end up whiling away a lot of time, so I am going to consciously try to work fewer hours, and see if that boosts my productivity. There is all this talk about showing up everyday, but someone like me doesn't need to make an effort to show up. Someone like me has to make an effort to not show up and avoid mental or physical burnout. 

Nearly Run Over

 I was nearly run over by a speeding car on my bike yesterday, and right outside my house. I was to the right of my line and signalling to turn right. I heard a car come up behind me and assumed he was going to overtake me from the left. Instead, he came from the right and brushed so close to me that his mirror hit my handlebar and came off. My first reaction, I hate to admit, was fear of confrontation, so I was actually relieved he drove away. The car behind him stopped to make sure I was okay, bless him. After the day, week, month(s) I have had, I didn't need this brush with death or life-changing injury. But the operative word is brush. It could have been MUCH MUCH worse, and I should be thanking my stars. This took me back to an incident from years ago, when my roomie and I narrowly avoided running over a cyclist in India. I am going to quote from that blog post. 

And suddenly I didn’t feel so bad any more. At least no one was dead. As long as there is life there is possibility. Things are never as bad as they are made out to be. As long as there is life you can always retire to fight another day.

And, this is important to remember. As long as there is life, you can always retire to fight another day. Maybe when that incident happened my nerves weren't as frazzled as they are today, but as the blog makes clear, I was far from  happy even then. I took some positive lessons from that incident. What has happened, has happened. Either, you can keep replaying it in your head, or you can draw lessons from it and move on. I am in one piece (although the car isn't. What are the odds that in a collision between a car and a bike, the car comes off worse?). This is not a call to ignore what happened, and try to shut it out of your brain. It is to draw lessons from it, learn from your mistakes or think about what you could have done differently even if you were not at fault. And, move on. Mistakes are meant to learnt from now, not constantly replayed in your head. 

And the more practical moral of the story? Be more careful. I have been feeling quite uppity on my bike lately, feeling superior to car owners stuck in traffic as I whiz past. To be honest, I have been showing off, which is pretty silly, since I am sure the car owners barely notice, and even if they do, I am sure they are more annoyed than impressed. I need to be more careful and less of a show-off. And, never ever turn without looking back to check if there is a car about to run you over, even if you have control of the lane, even if you are signalling. 

Submitting My First Grading

This morning when I woke up, I saw an email from a professor teaching for the distribution of my grades. Cue anxiety that I had been overly generous with my grades. My mean was 65 and median 67. Surely, that is too high? So, imagine my relief when she responded saying hers was very similar. But, this unit has a habit of springing bad if not nasty surprises, so it turned out that I would have to grade 7 assignments that were submitted late. That took up the rest of the afternoon, but at least I didn't have to entangle myself in the assignments I had already graded to adjust the marks downwards. In the evening, I uploaded the grades. I am 95% sure I have messed up somewhere. either in the form of garbled feedback or grades on the feedback sheet and on the marksheet not matching. I have been writing my PhD and have been discovering howlers on readbacks. My brain feels like mush a lot of the time, so that's no surprise. About messing up on the grading, I have been telling myself that it will be fine. Everyone makes mistakes even in the best of times, and we are some worlds away from that. I am doing my best in a chaotic world and holding myself up to normal world standards is unreasonable. And, the fiddly grading process was particularly error-prone to make matters worse. So, when (or if) mistakes are discovered, the only thing to do is accept them, apologize and move on. Of course, I could have checked every file again individually. and, watch my head explode. 

Residence Permit Arrives

 My resident permit came in the post today, much to my relief. What should be a mere formality feels like a big achievement. I hadn't got a peep from the home office since they sent an email two weeks ago saying my visa has been approved. Then I got an email this afternoon saying my BRP was on its way and my courier would contact me with the details. The mail lifted me from a PhD-induced slump and I managed to do some work on my PhD in the afternoon. Then, when I got home, I found the residence permit in the mail, which made me jump with joy. As I was telling a friend, I am feeling more relieved than I did after finding out I had got the Bristol uni job. This permit is definitive proof that I will be able to live in the UK for the next three years at least. This is where I want to be. Also, it means I will be able to travel to India to visit my family over the winter holidays. Yes, this month will be hectic as hell. I will have to juggle PhD-writing with the work I know about and other work which may be bestowed upon me. But, next month, God willing, I will see my family. And, hopefully, the anticipation of seeing them will give my PhD wings. 

Clocks Go Back 2021

 The clocks went back this morning, marking the official start of winter for me. As is my custom, I did the cozy yoga session and loved it.  I also went back to my clocks back/clocks forward posts from previous years. i use these posts to reflect on the previous 5/7 months and write down what I anticipate until the next clock change. Of course, I also do these reflection/anticipation posts at year-end, but I enjoy reflecting/anticipating so I welcome the shorter intervals. My last post followed the long Coid winter,but struck a hopeful note for spring and summer, with the end of my PhD imminent. Little did I know that summer would be a washout and I wouldn't be done with my PhD at the end of 7 months. But, I can't complain. I haven't finished my PhD, but I have a job, I am in good physical and mental health and I will be seeing my family soon. What more can one ask for, especially at a time like this? Life hasn't gone to plan but it hasn't gone badly either. Today, is also the day I was supposed to submit my PhD after my first extension. And, it also marks five years since the start of my PhD programme. But, even if I try I can't feel bitter or even wistful about both these milestones. A lot has happened over the past five years ago, and I have done the best I could. 

Back to the PhD Hustle

 I was going to say 'grind' instead of hustle in the title of this post, but then I realized I need to stop seeing it as a grind. The time for grinding is over, its now time to hustle and get the job done. I have realised I can spend infinite amount of time on intellectual puzzles that my thesis touches upon. The question I need to ask myself is "Does it matter to my PhD" and be ruthless about abandoning it if it doesn't. It is foolish to think that I will solve every, if not most, if not many of the intellectual riddles around my PhD. I won't and its foolish to even try. My job is to write a coherent PhD in the time I have left. That will mean sidestepping rather than solving many intellectual mazes and blackholes. This afternoon, I messaged my supervisor to ask if I should send here what I have so far, even if its half-baked. She replied in the negative, and I didn't waste a single moment in bitterness or disappointment. I am in this alone now, as I always was, and now is the time to hustle. 

Karmabhoomi

I went to UWE today for my supervisor's send-off. It didn't feel nostalgic, it just felt weird. I couldn't wait to get out of the PhD room--the space that has been the closest thing to home for me in Bristol. It was my refuge during the long winter of 2020-21 and I have spent many a pleasant and unpleasant hour pacing its length while praying for intellectual breakthroughs. But, my karmabhoomi lies elsewhere, that chapter of my life is closed. No wonder I didn't make a fuss when I was told to clear out my desk. 

Kind Words From A Student

 Today, one of my students said he was lucky to have me as his personal tutor and it made my day. Amidst all the chaos, stress and sleeplessness of the past two months or so, one thing I have noticed is how positively students have responded to me and that I have also enjoyed interacting with them, despite myself. The long hours of teaching have been tiring for sure, but not grating on the grating on the soul.  I am not good at small talk, I am not a jokester so its been pleasant surprise to me how easy  it has been to build a rapport with my students. I feel a softness and generosity and goodwill when I teach that I usually don't otherwise. Maybe its too early to speak and I have just been lucky not to have had any bad experiences with students. Of course, there will be bad experiences.  But, teaching has brought out a side in me that I didn't know that I had. And, from what I have seen so far, its a side I like. 

LinkedIn Fiasco

 I went to my Linkedin profile today, and much to my horror, saw a bunch of messages congratulating me for finishing my PhD. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. What happened was a couple of weeks ago, I had started to add my new job to the profile before changing my mind because I didn't have my visa yet. I had forgotten that I had added an end date to my PhD and Linkedin unbeknownst to me broadcast it to my contacts. I have hibernated my account, but I am sure word has gone out. I felt red with embarrassment. Having people think I have finished my PhD when I have been struggling with the final draft for months seems particularly dishonest. But, on second thoughts, no one outside my immediate circle really cares if or when I finish my PhD. I shouldn't mistake curiosity for concern. And, I am going to finish my PhD soon. And, after I finish my PhD I can go back and change the dates. This world will always throw something at you that frazzles you. You have to talk yourself out of being frazzled sometimes. It is not always possible to do so, but one should try. And, when one is not in the depths of despair, it is possible to talk yourself out of being frazzled. 

P.S: I have hibernated my Linkedin account.

Mountain Out of A Molehill

 The thing that I had been dreading passed without a whimper. Five days of stress for nothing. But I am just glad its over. My fears were irrational--I knew that when I was afraid, just as much as I knew it now. Sometimes, it is possible to talk yourself out of stress or fear. I haven't been able to do so in the past few months, and that's fine. If the past 18 months have eroded my stress tolerance buffers, that is no surprise. I am just glad I haven't allowed the fear to paralyze me, and have soldiered on. Sometimes, tough times last longer than you would expect. But, rays of sunshine break out from time to time. 

Fear

 I woke up at around 4:00 am yesterday, as I usually do these days, feeling angry about my additional workload and half-salary. I had planned to chip away at grading but I was too frazzled for that. I spent a few hours contemplating. At the beginning, I thought that I would wait till Monday to see how I felt and then possibly asked to be relieved of the additional workload. But, it was clear to me that I would feel no differently on Monday, so I decided to write to my supervisor that same day. The only question was what to say. Should I tell him that I am struggling to cope, feel stressed all the time and am having trouble sleeping? That was the initial plan and I drafted the email, but just before sending the email I thought I would consult a colleague who I know from our UWE days. I am glad I did because saying I was going to pieces would have been a categorically bad idea. I went with "just about coping" and half salary. My supervisor, bless him, replied immediately. I don't know how I would have endured the weekend if he hadn't. But, it turns out he wasn't even aware that I had been given the additional workload and he swiftly set the record straight. The sneaky bastard who tried to draft me for his section of the course hasn't replied, and I fear he will kick up a fuss tomorrow. I should have been more assertive when he "asked" me and told my supervisor that this wasn't part of the deal. But, I am not going to be too hard on myself. You live and you learn. I was trying to be low maintenance, but I have realised that makes me ripe for exploitation. And, the sneaky bastard has revealed his nature, so I am going to be extra-careful around him. 

I didn't sleep well last night. I had a nightmare which jerked me awake and I couldn't go back to sleep. I suppose I am worried about how this incident will play out tomorrow. But, I am proud of how I am coping. I broke the back of my grading load today, finishing more than I had planned. 

No Respite, Only Spite

It clearly was a bad idea to share with my parents how stressed I am. After our phone conversation this evening, my mom called me up saying she was worried about me. So, yes, the next few conversations will involve me reassuring my mother that I am ok. And, continuing the trend of "No respite, only spite", I just discovered that I am supposed to teach on a section of a module that I was not expecting to have to teach on. A professor "asked" if I would be willing to help. I would feel less disgruntled if I was being paid full salary, but that is not the case. This piece of news overshadowed the relief I felt on being informed that my visa application had been approved. Since I have joined this university, there have only been unpleasant surprises--more work than anticipated, both in terms of volume and difficulty. 

Turning 36

 I didn't sleep well last night and I had six hours of teaching today. But, the most important words of the sentence are the past tenses. I got through the night and day, and here I am, tired and weary but still standing. I am nearly done with teaching on the first part of Communicating Economics, the module that has been causing me so much stress over the past few weeks. All that remains is grading, which is going to be anything but straightforward. But that too shall pass, and in about two weeks or so, I won't have to worry about this module for at least another year. And, who knows what will happen during that year. So, now, coming to the occasion of my birthday. My only birthday resolution is to not think too far ahead. Easier said than done, I know, but I am getting better at it. 

Fearing the Future Less

Tomorrow is going to be a monster day. Six hours of teaching on my 36th birthday. Not a great way to spend a birthday, even for someone who is not big on birthdays. On the bright side, however tomorrow goes, I will be eating cake at the end of the day. I have no idea how tomorrow will go and I haven't even spent too much time worrying about it. But, at this point, it is also worthwhile to acknowledge how much better I am doing compared to a few weeks ago. I am sleeping much better, and my anxiety is tapering down. I coped admirably in a very difficult set of circumstances. Yes, my circumstances are not unique, but so what? I have done very well, and to acknowledge this fact would be false modesty. I wonder if the events of the past 18 months and the hell that is our future, will force us to be more comfortable with uncertainty? To fear the future, less? 

Drinks With Friends

Yesterday, I went out for drinks with a friend and a few of his friends, and surprise, surprise wanted to stay there longer than him. Introverted me usually leaps at the chance to make an early exit. But, I was enjoying myself, and it was a nice evening in the midst of a gruelling few weeks. Since my weekly teaching is frontloaded, I don't have much time to socialize over the weekends. And, my priority is to finish the bulk of my PHD before Christmas so that I can visit India without having it hanging over my head. I tried working on my PhD today, and barely manged to budge it. I feel like I am going around in circles because I keep running into the same roadblocks again and again. I haven't had an interrupted run at finishing my PhD since July, and the problem with this stop-start game is it takes days to come back to where you had left it off. Moving ahead from Square 1 is difficult enough, made doubly frustrating by the fact that you have to make some effort to get to to Square 1. Maybe I am just making excuses. Maybe I would still be in the same place even if I had no job applications to distract me. It really does feel like I am writing this PhD with my blood. I have given up hopes of hitting that sweet soft from which point onwards everything just falls into place. Now, its about showing up and trying to budge your PhD forward by a few inches. 

Work Drinks

 I  went for my first after-work drinks today, and it wasn't as bad as I imagined.  Yes, I had  to  feign interest in what people were saying at many points, and I didn't mi as much as I probably should have. But, I didn't get bored out of my skull either. I always thought that I would never make friends at Bristol Uni because almost everyone was mainstream. But, who is  looking for fast friends here? Cordial relations with acquaintances can make a place seem much more hospitable. I might  not understand what they are doing or the worth of it. But, we can still enjoy a social drink from time to time. 

Verbal Constipation

 I have been quite irregular with blogging for the past two weeks or so. My run rate for October is one blog every two days. If I continue at the current run rate this will be most lowest monthly output since I resumed blogging in January 2018. Neither have I been very regular with yoga, although I have resumed my yoga class. So, the past month or so has been a period of rapid change, and I have been relying on my two support tools less than usual. I feels words bubbling inside me, but I am struggling to bring them out. Yesterday, I spent two hours surfing the internet while trying to write a blog post about my frustrations with the communicating economics course. A course whose premise I don't agree with. And I am teaching it with a professor with whom I don't see eye to eye on what is good or bad writing. And, which has a lot of econometrics, which is not my strong suit. After spending two weeks fretting over how I would cope, I am trying to just go with the flow. Today's teaching didn't go badly, and I am trying to take every day as it comes. 

Rude Mentee

I have 41 mentees, bless them, and it would be naive of me not to expect any problems. One of them is having laptop problems, and wants to know if the university will provide him one. Which is fine, except that he has been rude in his emails with me. In his last email, he told me to make sure that he got a laptop when it was made available and to try to keep him updated on the situation. That email pissed me off, but I replied with a "will do", which I shouldn't have (20-20 hind vision). Today, he mailed to check for updates and although the mail wasn't rude, it raised my hackles. I know this is me over-reacting to a minor situation due to stresses in other parts of my life. And, what do I know about the student? Troubled background, financial troubles, who knows his story? And, chances are I won't be able to give much mental space to this particular problem, since I have plenty of other issues vying for attention. Its just that these overreactions can feel overwhelming in the moment. but, the moments pass eventually. 

Night Out

 Today, I went for drinks with my supervisor and her colleagues. And, I didn't leave at the first opportunity, which is unusual for me. I was clearly an outsider and maybe I cramped some of the gossip. But, I just wanted to be out longer, and I don't think anyone particularly minded, because they don't seem to be like me. I might have minded if an outsider had chosen to stick around beyond their welcome. Note to self to be nicer to outsiders. But, I really needed a night out. The past few weeks have been mad, and although I  didn't really let my hair down and party, it was a good break. 

Illness Didn't Materialize (Today)

I didn't fall sick today, although I woke up feeling tired. I had decided that I would stay home and skip yoga. But by the end of the day, I had begin to feel stir-crazy. It didn't help that I started reading some of the nine papers for the Communicating Economics unit I am teaching on. All the econometrics made my head spin, and I am going to have my work cut out trying to get my head around the papers. Pretending to understand them when I don't is going to take some guile. I write another day about my hate affair with econometrics. But by the end of today, I just felt that I had to get out of the house. Yoga was nice but it did feel like Sarah was kicking our asses a bit much today. 

Fatigue/Illness/Covid

 I feel like I am coming down with something. To be fair, I've felt like I was coming down with Covid about a dozen times over the past 18 months. This time, I don't specifically think its Covid. There is a lot of cold and flue in the air. It could also be that I am coming under the weather because of the stress and lack of sleep of the past month. To be honest, I am surprised I have held up so far. Strangely, I don't feel very anxious. Maybe repeatedly telling myself its not my fault is having an effect finally. If I do come down with Covvid, I will know whether I have to self-isolate or not by Monday. If its not, I have enough time to recover from a cold/flue before Monday's teaching. And, it snot the end of the world if I miss teaching on Monday. Yes, it will increase stress levels for other people and they might be annoyed. But, if you expect teachers to teach face to face during a pandemic, you should expect some of them to fall sick. Okay, I am getting ahead of myself. There is a good chance I will be fine tomorrow morning. But, I am wondering whether I should shift down a few gears, not push myself hard physically. Maybe I should work from home tomorrow and/or give yoga a miss? Let us see how I feel tomorrow. 

Good or Bad Day of Teaching?

 I had my first day of proper teaching at Bristol Uni today, and I am not sure whether it went well or badly. Some parts of it went well, and some didn't but it was definitely not as well as I had hoped. My students were active and engaged for the first of the two seminar questions. But, for the second one, both my and their enthusiasm levels dipped. I really have to figure out what to do about drawing graphs and equations in the classroom. The second question was on a topic I did not like particularly, but I also seemed to freeze when it came to writing equations or drawing. Maybe I just need to practice more on the whiteboard in my room?

As for the second session, where I was a co-teacher, I felt like a mute spectator beside a forceful woman. I did manage to get some words in, but I felt that my contributions were trite. It didn't help that I wasn't very clear about how the lecture was structured. To be sure, the sessions were not an unmitigated disaster, like my first session of online teaching. I felt more like you feel when you cum too soon--listless and uneasy but not shattered. 

Taking Every Monday As It Comes

 I'm realizing that to survive the next few weeks, I am going to have to take every Monday as it comes. If I start thinking of anything beyond the next Monday, I won't be able to do anything. Today, I discovered that I will have to teach far more hours that I had initially thought. Any hopes of resuming work on my PhD any time soon went out of the window. Waiting for ht pressure to let-up isn't a winning strategy because the pressure might increase. But, I am already getting better at handling the pressure. I feel less tense than I did last week, even though since then, I have learnt that my teaching load has increased. is there such a thing as stress fatigue? When there are too many things to worry about, you get tired of worrying and worry less about everything? It almost feels like I should worry more. but, I am not going to will myself into worrying. What will be, will be. 

Sleepless September

Except for that dark period in my life, I have never slept so badly as I did in September. In the first week of the month, I was told I had been shortlisted for an interview at Bristol Uni, and since then, my stress levels have been sky high. I have never felt so incapable of handling stress as I have in the past few months, and this months was the pits. I remember how just last month or so I had observed that I hadn't suffered from poor sleep since the early days of the pandemic. I spoke to soon. At Bristol uni, I feel out of depth in a pool I don't want to be in. I feel both averse to and inferior to the mainstream economists that populate the economics department there. I also feel like an impostor for telling them I can teach whatever they want me to, and allowing them to assume that I am a fellow mainstream economist. I feel both incapable of and unwilling to teach mainstream economics. Apart from the job stress, the flimsiest of reasons have kept me up at night--irritation with my housemates, a tiff with my friend, anxiety about a trivial issue with my interview video. Earlier in the month, I found myself waking up very early, but in the past week or so, I have also had trouble falling asleep. Trouble falling asleep and waking up early is a nasty combo, and its taken all I have to stop myself panicking about my lack of sleep. The only time I have felt stressfree in the past few weeks is while teaching students. It picked me up on Monday, before the stress of teaching on another module levelled me again. But, today, was not even a teaching session. It was just us talking about one of their assignments. But, it picked me up all the same. I have been warned about how students at this uni tend to be cocky and entitled. Its still early days, and my students may yet turn out to be like that. But, I feel a kindness and compassion for them that I didn't think I was capable of feeling, especially during the pandemic. That might change in the coming weeks or months or maybe I am discovering a new side to myself. 

Mad Day

How do I describe today? It started with an email telling me I was being thrown into another module and  could I please jump asap? And, every possible logistical problem manifested itself. I was prepared for not having access to email or Blackboard. What I was not prepared for was me and my students not being able to enter the building where our seminar was scheduled. Bristol University reminds me of India, where nothing happens the way  it is supposed to. But, I managed and the students seemed fairly happy. I could have done a better job, but my priority was to get through today without incident, which I  achieved comfortably. After one week of anxiety over Covid and teaching, the day passed off peaceably, except that I was plunged into another challenge before it ended. And, this is a challenge I am finding  a bit overwhelming. But, I  will write about it in the coming days, I am too tired right now. 

First Day of Teaching Tomorrow

 If there is one thing I  have learned about anxiety over the past five years is its ebbs and flows are not easy  to predict. I ma currently in a low anxiety phase, and in fact today my anxiety levels have been lower than yesterday. There is  plenty to be nervous about. Even in normal times, I would be nervous about my  first day of teaching at a uni with a reputation for being posh. What if the posh brats take the piss out of me? (I just listened to 'I have confidence' from the Sound off Music and felt better :-)). This would be my chief fear in normal times. Now, I also have to contend with the fear of having caught Covid from Betty, and having to teach without any IT support. To  kids traumatized by 18 months of home schooling during Covid. To be honest, all the other fears have taken the edge off the chief fear. I will heave a sight of relief when I wake up without a cold or cough tomorrow and everything else will be a bonus. Yes, the past few weeks have been nerve-wracking. But, tomorrow is a fresh start, a new beginning. I am not going to carry the baggage from the last few weeks into tomorrow. Yes, my anxiety  levels over the past few weeks have surprised me, but I was doing the best I can in challenging  circumstances. And, I am still here, I haven't thrown in the towel. Anxiety will come and go as it pleases, fate may trip me up, but that's not within my control and neither is it my fault. 

First Day On The Job

What do I say about my first day being back in regular employment? The place is more of a mess than I thought. The anger that was bubbling inside of me for the past two days melted away because I realised they were not be especially inconsiderate towards me. It was just a small part of a much bigger mess. Everyone seemed like they were tottering on the edge on a burnout two days before the start of the teaching semester. My not having access to the teaching platform seemed  like a trivial mishap in a much grander scheme of chaos. To add to my misfortune, Betty's test came back negative but she is sick, so chances are she has caught Covid for the second time. I had to cancel my trip to Leicester. But, I am feeling strangely at peace with  this turn of events. Neither was unexpected but more importantly, neither was in my control. There is only so much that you can curse fate before accepting it. I am going to do what I can in an imperfect situation, and my best will sadly be far from perfect. Perfection is a unrealistic goal in times such as these.  

Needless Anxiety

A lot of my anxiety over the past few months has been caused by others being inconsiderate. Not responding to messages, not even acknowledging messages, etc. etc. As someone who is always prompt in replying to messages, I have long realized that most people are not wired that way. But, surely, that cannot be a blanket excuse for inconsiderate behaviour? I wish I was able to say "If you don't care, I don't care" instead of working myself up into a ball of stress over things that are not in my hands. I realise that everyone has been through hell these past few months. No one has any surplus compassion--compassion fatigue is a thing. But I am not even looking for compassion, just a minimum level of professionalism. I suppose even that is too much to expect. Why are people such mugs?

Into The Deep End

 So, it turns out I will be teaching a class on Monday and Betty is sniffing. Betty still hasn't got her test result back. If it comes out positive, I don't know what to do? Life just feels like an endless exercise in crisis control. No sooner does one stressful situation pass than another begins. Is this what it felt like to live through a long war? Post-trauma and ongoing trauma coagulating into one/ The sense that life is a succession of bin fires. Feeling numb and vulnerable at the same time? Feeling like crying often but you cannot seem to summon tears? 

Waiting for my Housemate's Covid Test

 The teaching semester has not even started and I am already waiting for my housemate's Covid test results. As the effect of schools and unis reopening and the summer festivals kick in, Covid is going to spread far and fast. I better get used to news like this because it is going to come thick and fast. There is no point in fretting because there is too much to fret about. Its tough not knowing what tomorrow will bring, but such is life at the moment. Yesterday, when Betty told us, I debated whether to tell the people around me at uni or not. Telling others is an act of honesty but it is also a way to alleviate your own nervousness by making others more nervous. Putting the onus on them and indemnifying yourself from guilt or responsibility. "I told you, and would have stayed away if you asked me to. If anything happens to you, that's not on me now". It is giving the opposite person a difficult choice. To be an asshole by telling you stay away or worry about getting infected by you. 

Not ideal, but what's the alternative? You gamble that the test is negative and then deal with the fallout if it turns positive? I did that in December and got burnt, so I am not doing it again. So, I am going to go by the book and not worry about the consequences. If I have to miss classes because I have to self-isolate, that's not my fault. Chances are I will have to either miss classes or substitute for other people. Neither is a savory outcome but that can't be helped. what will be, will be. 

Slamming A Book Shut

 My day began with a mail from Betty saying one of co-workers had tested positive for Covid. To think that just yesterday, I had written about how there were so many things that could go wrong over the next few months that it was impossible to contemplate all the possibilities. My heart started to pound as soon as I saw the email, and my brain swung into overdrive to plan my next course of action. Thankfully,  I managed to calm down and think rationally. I didn't do a lateral flow test immediately or at uni. However, me nerves still felt a little jangled. So, when I got my Confirmation of Sponsorship form that allows me to apply for a visa, I decided to apply to today itself. I knew I wouldn't be at peace if I left it to the next morning. Neither would I get any PHD writing done, not would I have the relief of having completed the form. The application took a few hours and a lot of hair pulling, and blew a huge hole in my bank account. I pored over it multiple times like someone with hypochondria. And, I realised that if I let it, I would spend a lot of time over the next few days poring over the completed form, looking for mistakes. So, if yesterday's image was possibilities of paper in the air with tags dangling from them, today's is slamming a large book shut. The application is done and dusted and its time to move on. The visa fees will singe for a while, but there is nothing I can do about it. 

All That Could Go Wrong In The Next Few Months

 What does one do when the list of possible disasters is endless? Not thinking about possible disasters is easier said than done. Overthinkers will contemplate every possibility. My strategy is to note them, tag them and move on. Tagging is a way of  acknowledging the possibility and consciously moving on, rather than actively trying to avoid thinking of possibilities.  I have started to imagine those possibilities as notes suspended in the sky, with tags dangling from them. Maybe if that possibility materializes, at least you will have  the satisfaction of  having anticipated it, if nothing else. There are some things you can anticipate but not  prepare for and its important to acknowledge that. The basic point is you can't stop stuff from popping into your head, but you can stop fuelling it. Stop thinking of the possibilities of the possibilities. 

Compartmentalizing

 The next few weeks and months are going to test my powers to compartmentalize. I am going to have to divide my attention between proving myself in a new job and finishing my PhD. Not stress about my job when I am working on my PhD, and vice versa. And, at the same time, make sure my housemates don't drive me crazy. And, try not to catch Covid. Phew! I am taking heart from the fact that my PhD progress picked up pace when I taught last semester. But, as a friend pointed out, I didn't have a full teaching load at that point and neither was I so eager to prove myself. Suffice to say that in the next few months, I am going to have to call upon all my reserves of fortitude. I will have to be kind to myself, to be on the lookout for signs of burnout, because if I don't I am certain to burnout. But, the good thing is I have gotten better at observing myself, and taking a step back when it feels like I am running on fumes. 

Contract Signed and Sent Off

 I had started to worry a bit since I hadn't heard from Bristol Uni in more than a day. That's a long time since they want me to start next Friday. But, things moved quickly today.  I got an email from HR around mid-day asking for my visa details, and then the contract around 4:00 pm. I sent it off before leaving work today. The doomsday scenario of the uni withdrawing their offer due to visa complications melted away. Now, I can focus on the new job and finishing my PhD. The PhD should fall into place now, I just want it to too badly. I am going to do as much as I can in the next seven days, but also try not to kill myself? What will be, will be. 

Trip Home

 I have decided that I am going to do my damndest to make a trip home in December. There are amny things beyond my control---travel restrictions, my own health if I catch Covid, etc., my new job. etc. But, among the things that are in my control, my PhD is the top of my list. I will not have the time and energy to mount a breakneck effort to finish. So, I will have to play the long game. Pace myself, but keep moving. There is a good PhD in there, I just have to find it and not lose my mind while I do so. I have decided to adopt the Pomodero technique for the time being--put in four solid hours every working day until I start my new job. Yes, there will be other stresses--visa, PhD extension, new job. But, I just have to put the blinders on and keep trotting. Keep trotting until my destination looms into view. There will be moments of frustration and anger every day. But, I will have to calm myself down and carry on. And, if some reason, I don't make it home this December, at least I can tell myself that I did my best. Do your best and leave the rest to fate. I managed to put in a solid four hours of work today, so I am feeling quite proud of myself. 

Job Offer

The wait is over and the news is good! It wasn't the job I had applied for, it is a rung lower, but in the times of Covid losing a rung is better than losing a run (Sorry, for the bad joke). Yes, life will not get less  complicated any time soon. There is the visa to worry about, and my PhD extension to worry about, not to mention the job itself. But, I am feeling  surprisingly calm about it. They are definitely not going to kick me out of the PhD program and they are not going to rescind the job offer due to visa complications. The road might not be smooth but the destination is in sight. And, more importantly, I am secure in the knowledge that I have done my best. If fate is not with me,  there is nothing I can do about it. I have already started the celebrations because I realise there is no point in waiting. When one complication melts away, another will follow. We must squeeze joy out of life, it won't come us on a platter. 

Peace At Home

So, the chill on the home front thawed today, no thanks to me. The overtures came from the Irish guy, whom I had given a ticking off yesterday. I even thought about apologizing to him for being too harsh yesterday, but realised it was only a matter of time before he annoys me again. Enjoy the thaw while it lasts but cold winds will blow again. When you are laying down boundaries, the posts must be driven hard into the ground. If you pull them out a bit because you think you've driven them in too far, you have only yourself to blame when the boundary is breached again. I avoid conflict, so the moment the person who has wronged me shows even a flicker of contrition, I melt. If you feel you've been wronged, you should stand by it even if an apology comes your way. Accept the apology or contrition by all means, but don't cave in completely from your original stance. 

Dish Drying Rack

Apparently, I am to have no respite from my annoying housemates. Tomorrow, I am supposed to mount a final assault on the conceptual chapter of my PhD, and here i am smouldering because of the twerps I live with. Yesterday, I was pissed because one of them polished off my baked beans without asking me. a few days ago, bonking Betty was leaving her hair clogging the bath drain. Today, the dish drying rack has disappeared from the kitchen. Just disappeared. I realise my nerves are in a state where a twinge feels like an explosion. But, can I just get a few days of peace? Is that too much to ask for? I know I shouldn't be getting worked up about these things. So, I used my powers of deduction and figured out that the Irish guy must have tried cleaning it, brunt it with acid and dumped it in the trash. So, I went down to the garbage bin and sure enough, there it was. 

But, I also noticed that the garbage bin was full, which is going to cause me stress one week from now. God, how long will this go on?

Interview Debrief

 i think the interview went well, although its difficult to tell with these things because you can never know how your answers went down with  the panel. Maybe you dropped some dealbreakers without realising. But, I am really proud of I have handled myself over the past one week, and I am writing this down today because I may forget, especially if I don't get the job. I have been a real trooper. My anxiety went through the roof during the past week, but I didn't buckle, I hung in there. The anxiety was accompanied by puzzlement about the cause of it. Was I anxious because I wanted the job really badly,  or was I anxious  because I didn't want the job and was subconsciously sabotaging myself. Plus the quarrel with my friends. But, I hung in there, and managed to put up a satisfactory performance at the interview. 

Interview Tomorrow

 The 24 hours till 4:30 pm today were harrowing. Writing about instant regret in yesterday's post did nothing to make it go away. I woke up at 4 am today, having made up my mind that I would go to uni at dawn today and record another video. Thankfully, better sense prevailed and I did not bow to my anxiety. I realised that recalling the video would only have been justified if there was a howler. Since that was not the case, it was best to just let it be. But, even after the video deadline passed, my anxiety did not lift. I was afraid the aftershocks of the anxiety blitz due to the video would hurt my interview prep. It was only after a mock interview with a friend in the late afternoon, which went well, did my anxiety finally ease. The stakes are high, this is my best shot at landing a job and nerves are part of the game. Job interviews are stressful by definition and are not meant to be enjoyed. They are meant to be endured. No wonder it didn't raise any eyebrows when I told some people how I was more nervous than normal. Nerves are bound to be there and it no use fighting them. Earlier in the day, I told some friends that I didn't know whether I was nervous because I want this job really badly or subconsciously don't want this job at all. Now is not the time to fathom my inner life. Now is not the time to make reply, now's not the time to reason why. 

Instant Regret

 Having to record a teaching sample video for a job interview is a nerve-wrecking experience. I spent almost three days to prepare it, suffering frequent bouts of mental exhaustion. I decided to record the final video this morning, when I was fresh. Then I started obsessing over every detail. Should I reword this bit, should I highlight this term on this slide? I toyed with changing something, but then that would mean recording the whole video from scratch again and I couldn't bring myself to do it. But, the moment I sent off the final video I was hit with a wave of regret. What if that minor error, which is not even strictly an error, wrecks my chances? I had a peaceful start to the day, and was wondering when the cycle would turn and I would be wracked with anxiety. I had no hopes that the tranquillity would continue right up to and and past the interview. The question is what is to be done? The video has been sent. I will have to recall the video with apologies and send a new one. Neither prospect is appealing at all. And, should I really be feeding my anxiety? What is the worst that could happen if I don't do anything? They will point out their problems with the offending part, and I will accept my error and move on. 

The Sweet Spot Between Satisfaction and Fatigue

 I am have to submit a teaching sample video before my interview on Friday, and I spent most of today working and reworking it. I am more or less than done now, and will send it off once I have a copy that is glitch-free for the most part and within the time limit. I am not completely satisfied with it but I don't think I will ever be. But, I know that I am growing sick of it, and I really can't bring myself to do any more major changes. Which is why I am not taking the opinion of anyone else on it. I am not aiming for 100% satisfaction. I am aiming for the right mix of being satisfied and fed up with it. Maybe that is also how I will know when my PhD is done. When I am satisfied enough but also fed up of it. Being only fed up with it is not enough. Some amount of satisfaction is also necessary. 

Unburdened

 I woke up this morning feeling the burden of the world on my shoulders. I had managed to quarrel with all my friends in Bristol bar one within the space of one hour. Nerves about my upcoming job interview may have contributed but I was and in no mood to dissect what happened. I tried to drown myself in interview prep but still felt the occasional wave of exhaustion wash over me. I know by now it is mental exhaustion, not physical exhaustion. But things got better as the day progressed. It was a sunny day, so I went for a long walk and sat below a tree. One of the friends whom I had quarrelled with reached out to me. I was surprised, because I am usually the one to mend fences. This time I was determined not to. But we had lunch together, and I felt a silly because it turned out that the massive falling out we had had was mostly in my head. He didn't even seem that angry about yesterday. My mood lifted even more after that, I and I sent a message to the other friends I had quarrelled with, apologizing for being in such a foul mood yesterday. Suffice to say, I am ending the day on a much better note than I started it. And, I realised that sometimes things are broken only in our heads. 

Bike-Ride Respite

So, it turns out I was mentally, not physically exhausted. I was toying with the idea of whether to go for a run and do some work or whether to go for a bike ride today. I decided on the latter and I am so glad I did. It was a solo bike ride, so I could leave right after breakfast and planned to return in time for a late lunch. and, it worked like a charm. I began to feel relaxed as soon as I left the city and noticed myself humming old Bollywood songs. There were few people on the path in the morning, and I truly had a good time. Maybe I need to plan solo bike rides more, rather than go solo if I don't find anyone to go with me. This summer was very grey so we didn't have that many sunny days, but if we are lucky we might have a few more weeks of warm weather. I also decided to take it easy with the interview prep over the weekend. If my mind drifts there, I won't and can't stop it, but I am not going to write a script or intentionally work on it. There isn't that much to do really, and I don't want to amp up my energy to soon and flame out before the interview. My goal is to relax as much as I can over the weekend.

Mini Burn-Out

 Today, I felt waves of exhaustion sweep over me from time to time. I can't tell if its mental exhaustion or physical exhaustion but I am feeling completely unmotivated to prepare for my job interview. And, i am trying not to freak out about my lack of motivation. I had worked myself into a frenzy trying to nail the conceptual chapters this week. I was not expecting to hear back from Bristol Uni so soon. And, suddenly, I have shift gears and work myself up into a frenzy about something completely different? No wonder I am struggling. I feel similar to how I felt two weeks ago at the end of the week when my haemorrhoids flared up and laptop conked out. The good thing is I recognized the signs and took a few steps back. Not enough steps back, but at least I didn't crash and managed to recover more or less by the following week. These are extraordinary times and require extraordinary levels of self-care. It is futile to berate myself over how badly I am coping, because the normal standards don't apply. The normal standard should go out the window. I have decided to go for a long solitary bike ride tomorrow if I feel like it. And there is a barbecue with friends on Sunday. I had toyed with the idea of postponing till after the interview but realised that I need a break. I can't spend the weekend AND the following week stressing over my interview. Maybe I should be preparing for my interview but should is a word one must use very careful in normal times, not to mention times like these. So, I ma going to try to take it as easy as I can over this weekend and see how that goes. 

Short-listed At Bristol Uni

 This afternoon, I got an email saying I've been short-listed for an interview at Bristol Uni. I was not expecting to hear from them till late next week, so I was quite surprised. My aim of completing my conceptual chapters before I heard back from them went straight out the window. And, it turns out they want someone quickly so if I get the job, I might have to go part-time with my PhD. Yes, I shouldn't be jumping the gun, but an overthinker like me can't help thinking ahead and considering all possible outcomes and effects of said outcomes. This is not the year to cling to expectations or to think too far ahead. Here today, down with Covid tomorrow. 

You Will Screw Up

 I am feeling less bad about my penny-wisery-pound-foolery over the weekend. Screwing up is a part of life and how long can one feel morose over such a small screw-up? Yes, I have duly noted my tendency for PWPF, and will be more careful in the future. I will screw up again and again and many of the screw-ups will be much bigger than this one. It is useful to be able to dismiss screw-ups that are not intentional. Sometimes we do destructive things with full knowledge of what we are doing and its possible consequences. The best we can aim for is to prevent these acts of self-sabotage. I heard this in a YWA video and I was thinking about it today. Why we do stuff that we know will be harmful in the future and not even pleasant while we are doing it? I don't want to trivialize self-harm, but does the tendecy for minor self-damage and self-harm come from the same place?

Going Round In Circles

 Today, didn't start well and didn't get better till the evening. My gloating over my new pair of cheap shoes was premature. it turns out the shoes don't fit me that well, a fact that I had glossed over in my glee over its price. I spent the first hour at work wracking my brain how to remedy the situation instead of working on my PhD. I decided to walk down to ASDA to buy insoles for the shoes, since I didn't find the idea of returning them very appealing. Cheap buys are always a gamble and if you lose you should be sporting about it and not to reverse it. So, now my £16 shoes have insoles worth £10 in them, and they still don't fit me well. 

I didn't make much headway in my PhD either, and I felt for the first time that I have been going around in circles for the past three months. Ideas that I had discarded in the first month started seeming appealing to me. I spent most of the the day watching myself spin around in circles. It wasonly after I got home from work did I get some new ideas. I am too wise to call them breakthroughs, they are more like slivers of light. I know that ideas that seem great in the head turn messy when its time to put them on paper. I am still a long way from home, but at least when I go in to uni tomorrow, I won't be starting at a blank slate. And, that is the only way to keep moving, grabbing on to slier of light, watch it melt between your fingers, and then grabbing on to the next one. But, at least, I am in beast mode when it comes to work. I didn't even bother with Pomodero today, because I knew I would blow through my 4-hour or even 5-hour target. the only thing to do is to keep at it. 

Back to Uni

 It's back to uni  tomorrow after the Bank Holiday Weekend. A friend asked me what my week was looking like,  and I told her it was just more of banging my head against the wall a.k.a as trying to get my theoretical framework in shape. To clear space for banging my head, I wrapped up another job application today. I am determined to make headway tomorrow. But, I have been determined before, and don't have much to show for it. What makes this time different? The truth is I don't know if  this time will be different. All I can do is to show up. Whether it turns out to be me banging my head against the wall or me knocking down the wall is  anybody's guess. Ai said a few days ago, I will get there, whether  it is running, walking, crawling or writhing. The important thing is to keep my chin up, which I have been doing so far.

1000th Post, And Cheap New Shoes

This is my 1000th post. The fact that I have reached this milestone in about three and a half years since I resumed blogging means I have been extremely regular. Not only that, after turning out 247 posts in 2018 and 244 posts in 2019, I was extremely prolific in the annus horribilis I of 2020, churning out 292 posts. I reckon I will end up with a similar number this year, which has been comparably horrible to last year. I am a sucker for milestones but the 1000th post milestone is the biggest one I have celebrated so far. The next 1000 milestone is at least 3 years away, assuming I keep blogging regularly. Who know what life will be like three years from now or if I will even be alive. And, in any case, 2000th post doesn't have the same ring to it as 1000th post. For a comparable ring, I will have to wait for my 10000th post, by which time I will be well into my twilight years and global atmospheric temperatures may be at least 3-4C higher, and all the carnage that comes with that. 

And today, I finally said goodbye to the guly brown shoes that I have been wearing for almost seven years exactly Those are not the only pair of shoes I have but I have worn them the most because no other shoes have lasted so long. If you wanted to design the most forgetable, featureless pair of shoes, you couldn't do better than this pair, They weren't ugly, because to be seen as ugly they would need to make an impression on the sense. These shoes just existed, and sometimes existed on my feet. I bought them before I moved to Holland to start my Master's degree. They were not particularly comfortable or uncomfortable, they were not particularly elegant or ugly, they were not particularly anything. I just hung on to them because and I am too cheap to throw away shoes that don't have holes in them. But, today, I found shoes for £16, narrowing the possibilities for buyer's remorse. I believe shoes grow to fit your feet anyway, and with expensive shoes at least I am perpetually worried about whether they fit right, or whether they look good.  With cheap ones, the standards are lower. 

Setting Boundaries With My Housemate

 The issue off one of my housemates using had been gnawing at my mind, despite my best efforts to shrug it off. This morning, I noticed that a jar of coffee I had bought a few weeks ago. I don't even remember if I opened it, or whether it was my housemate. The next thing I knew I had decided to tell him not to use my stuff. I would of course put it in milder terms--something like "Do you min if we don't use each other's stuff?". But, there is only so much you can do to take the edge of "Keep your paws away from my stuff". When I heard him in the kitchen, I went downstairs to chat with him. He had already made his coffee, so I didn't know if he had used my powder or his own. I simply told him if he minded putting his stuff in other cupboard. I mumbled something about how it would help avoid confusion about what stuff was whose, but I think he barely head me. I started taking stuff out of my cupboard and asking if it was his. Sensing some tension in the air, I immediately tried to make some small talk. 

When I think about it, I shouldn't have felt uneasy  laying down some boundaries. We are not friends, just housemates, he is untidy and I have never offered him use of my stuff. He assumed that because he didn't mind others using his stuff, others wouldn't mind either. He simply decided to start storing his stuff in my cupboard. Yes, I should have told him at that point, but doesn't everyone try to be more easy-going than they actually are? And, I didn't know at the point that him storing stuff in my cupboard would also mean him treating my stuff as his own. But, I am glad I didn't tell him not to use my stuff, because it could well have turned into "I didn't use your stuff! Yes, you did". Too much unpleasantness for my liking. So, I hope he gets the message that since we have different cupboards, he really doesn't have reason to go pawing in mine. 

August Bank Holiday

 During the previous bank holiday at the end of May,  I had written that by the time the next bank holiday rolls around I would be close to submitting my PhD, and it would be smooth sailing. How wrong I was!! I have spent three months in a conceptual fog that has only grown thicker with time, and I feel like I am no closer to submitting my PhD then I was three months ago, and much less optimistic. The end feels just around the corner but the corner is actually a pillar which I keep going around and arriving at exactly the same space. If there was one way to describe my progress, or at least how I view it, it would be spinning around in circle. Having got that lament out of the way, it is time to come to the actual story. The story isn't  how wrong I was about my prediction three months ago. The story is how okay I am despite having the most frustrating three months of my life. I come to this bank holiday with no great plans for the long weekend, and the looming move of a close friend to another city. And, yet, I feel cheerful, determined to have a good break. I plan to work on my job application and not think about my PhD unless my mind drifts there. And, only if my mind drifts there, not out of a sense of panic. Yes, my  life is far from perfect, and bigger troubles may lie ahead, but I am doing the best I can and approaching life with as much positivity and good cheer that I can muster. Surely, there are worse ways to be?

Being Clear About My PhD Problems

 I was messaging with an old friend, and she naturally asked about the progress of my PhD. After updating her, I told her that I will get there one day, but don;t know know if I will be running or crawling past the finish line. On reflection, I would give anything to be crawling right now, simply because I feel like I am writhing. Walking and running seem like unrealistic ambitions at the moment. At the same time, I must be honest about my current situation. Yes, my motivation levels are not particularly high, but my main problem is I am wrestling with a conceptual riddle. I am not whiling away my time watching Netflix in bed. I show up at the office every morning, and stay there till evening. Most of my working happens in my mind and doesn't make its way to paper because of the nature of the problem. Consequently, it may seem like I am not doing much but that is not true, The wheels in my mind are turning. Maybe not as fast as I want them too, maybe they are squeaking too much but they are turning. It is important to remember this whenever I feel like a lazy slacker. 

Private Property

 I have never seen myself as being overly attached to my possessions but one of my housemates makes me feel possessive. Maybe we should have explained to him that we all have our individual cupboards. He just took a fancy to mine and started storing some of his stuff there. I wouldn't have minded but turns out he has been using some of my stuff too. Yesterday, he remarked that there was a giant box of tea bags on one of my shelves as he popped into one. He possibly thought it had been abandoned, and I wasn't too pleased at all. Just the previous day I had indicated that I didn't want him to use my boxes for food storage but had hedged my words so much that he possibly thought I was fine with him using my stuff. To be fair to him, he is always offering me the use of his stuff, but I would just rather we stick to our own stuff, although I do enjoy pinching his milk as a way of getting back at him for his annoying habits. So the question is what is to be done. It is unbelievable how my housemates find new ways to annoy me on an almost daily basis, and it is also unbelievable that I haven't exploded with rage at any of them yet. at least, with the Irish guy he doesn't realise he annoys me in contrast to Betty, who doesn't care or knowingly annoys me (although to be fair to her, she has been very quiet for the past few months. The calm before the storm?). So, I have decided not to say anything unless I am inconvenienced. My sense of private property can be damned. telling him not use my stuff would make me feel petty and possessive, and even if I am those things to some extent, I don't like being made to feel that I am. 

Fortitude Lessons From Sports Psychologists

 I read a piece in The Guardian yesterday which asked sports psychologists for tips on emotional resilience for people who are not elite athletes or sportspeople. Some of the lesson were fairly well-known--break-up big goals into smaller ones, positive self-talk, visualization. But, a less obvious one is thinking through all the possible outcomes of a nerves-inducing event. “I like to go through each consequence and put them to bed, so they’re not going over them in their minds when they need to focus. I’m always surprised that people don’t do this in real life – they just react to what is thrown at them.” I think that makes a lot of sense for overthinkers like myself who struggle if told not to think about something. When I am nervous about something, it often helps me to anticipate all possible outcomes and what I will do in each case. Instead of fixating on what might happen going one step further and thinking about what I will do if that happens. To think of possible solutions to possible problems. It often turns out the worst possible scenario is not that bad after all. And one can always change one's course of action. But, having a tentative plan helps me feel more prepared and in control. To be sure, I am talking of concrete problems and situations, else the list of possible things that could go wrong is endless. And, if one gets stuck in the loop of thinking about possible tragedies that are far-removed from one's current situation, one has to talk oneself back to rationality. I am proud to say that I have become much better at self-talk since the start of the pandemic. Reminding myself to breathe, talking to myself like a close friend would. 

Submitting My PhD And Visiting Home

 As I was lying in bed this morning, I suddenly realised how badly I want to visit home.  The only thing I want more badly is to finish my PhD.  So, that is going to be my priority for the rest of the year--to submit  my PhD and make a trip to India. I had been struggling with the uncertainties in my life--when will I finish my conceptual section, will my supervisor read it in time, will I find a job, should I ask for hourly paid teaching, and if so, when?. It suddenly struck me that the 'worst' possible outcome--no job and no hourly paid teaching wouldn't actually be that bad. I would be able to visit home as soon as I submitted my PhD. In fact, I realised it wasn't the 'worst' outcome, it was just a different outcome with different trade-offs. So, I have decided not to ask for hourly-paid teaching. If it is offered to me, I will think about it. Allow the universe to unfold as it will. I won't be gutted if I don't get a job or hourly teaching next semester and I won't be thrilled if I do. There are so many things that can go wrong that I don't even want to think about it, let alone write about it here. All I can do is focus on what is in my hands, and leave the rest to fate. Give fate a fighting chance, as Allison Krauss implores us to do. 

Housemates

 I never imagined a day would come when bonking Betty would not be my most annoying housemates. That honour now goes to the Irish guy. Earlier this evening, I experienced for the first time a fire alarm going off in England because he was frying burgers to a cinder. Earlier in the day, I was racking my brains to find a way to tell him not to use my food containers. He has plonked some rice into my biggest food container and popped it into the fridge, where I am guessing it will stay until its starts turning brown. He is not ig on private property and keeps telling me I should feel free to use his stuff, so it feels churlish to make him empty the container. But, he is just annoying, my new housemate is weird. Two days ago, he pulled me aside to ask me if he could get into trouble with the law because the Irish guy smokes weed. and, his second question was if he could get into trouble if the Irish guy hid drugs in his room. and, of course, Betty has been quiet as a mouse, like she usually is between explosions. A friend tells me I could write a book with all my housemates stories. At least, I can still find humour in my housing situation most of the time. Annoying housemates are any day preferable to adversarial housemates, who are any day preferable to adversarial live-in landlords. 

Screenless Evenings

This week, I was forced to spend an evening without my laptop. The evening ended with me dozing on and off from 8:30 pm onwards until I eventually went to bed at 9:30 pm. In ordinary times, I would have simply picked up my kindle. But, this week was not an ordinary week, and was feeling too mentally exhausted to read anything I didn't have to.  I had blogged from work, so I didn't feel the need to blog on paper either. I have never understood the romance of writing by hand. Typing on a screen allows you to erase and rewrite without scratching out words. I much prefer it t writing on paper. The only exception is when I make notes from academic books and articles I read. Taking notes on the computer has always felt weird to me. I think its more of a hand-eye coordination thing. Reading on the comuter and taking notes by hand seems like the most natural thing in the world, while doing it the other way around feels very unnatural. Coming back to the point, screenless evenings sound good on paper but are not that good in reality, especially if you are single and when your brain is fried.

Laptop Back In Action

 As I write this, MS Office is installing on my laptop. When the technician said yesterday that he might have to reinstall windows, I was worried that I would have to pay for a new MS office. But, I was able to reinstall both MS Office and my antivirus and remember my passwords for Netflix, Twitter, Amazon, Facebook and Google. After 48 hours, I am back to where I was when my laptop ran out of power and shut down. 48 extremely stressful hours, I might add, as my hemorrhoids flared up too and my stomach felt like it was being churned. That familiar anxiety symptom where your stomach does not fine but you can't point to concrete symptoms either. The number of times I felt like I was falling to pieces, I cannot count. But, just as I was leaving uni to pick up my laptop, the pain subsided as if by magic. And, I also managed to make some progress on my PhD. I know anxiety doesn't disappear like magic. I will continue to feel the aftereffects for a few days at least. Right now, I feel a weariness that no amount of sleep seems capable of alleviating. I sat down to open the tap of tears today, and a few did emerge but it wasn't the most satisfying cry I ever had. I often think about the year when the demons were dancing in my head and in my bod, when I would break into tears as easily as a pig grunts. Maybe I exhausted my tear wells during that year.