A Truce Is No Peace

A truce is, by nature, uneasy, and buys time for the weaker party to either escape or fight back. It has to be at the initiative of the weaker, or at least less aggressive party, and it is seldom in the interest of the stronger party. Both parties might want to stanch their losses but its a battle for survival for just one of them. If you are wondering why I am spouting conflict strategy, it is because I am in an uneasy truce at the moment in which I am both the weaker and less aggressive party. Sometimes I feel a raging anger at the state of affairs, but I have been able to keep a lid on it so far. However, I entertain no delusions that this is a sustainable state of affairs. If it continues, my rage will boil over, and those who don't rage often, rage badly. I am pretty clear that this truce buys me time to extricate myself from the situation on as amicable terms as is possible, given what has transpired. 

Break from Blogging

I am going to be blogging intermittently for the next few weeks and do more therapeutic writing. I am going through a stressful period and don't find myself in the ruminative mood that is conducive for blogging. So, instead of forcing myself to blog out of habit, I am only going to blog when I feel like it. The proximate causes of stress are my house hunt and my PhD. I am trying to use one to distract myself from the other, but I wish it were that easy. It doesn't help that I am currently trying to write the meatiest part of my PhD. I wish I were better at compartmentalizing my life, but so does everyone. Sometimes you learn best when your back is against the wall.
It is only a matter of time before I find a house, and I have decided to wait until I find a nice house instead of moving in a rush and finding myself on the market again a few months down the line. The house hunt will takes its own time and meanwhile I am going to keep working on my PhD. There will never be a perfect time for writing my thesis and one must solider on irrespective of external circumstances excepting catastrophes. 

Bad Haircuts As A Metaphor

Many of the problems one encounters in life are like a bad haircut. One's hair grows out, leaving one free to get another bad haircut, and problems disappear over time only to be replaced by new ones. At times, it can feel like one's plate is more than full with problems. I am going through a slightly stressful time at the moment, and everyone around me seems as, or even more, stressed. And, as it happens, I got a bad haircut a few weeks ago that exacerbates my receding hairline. My hair will grow out and problems will go away.

And, problems come and go, wax and wane. Currently, the biggest problem for me is finding a place to stay. Till this evening, I had nothing, and in the space of minutes, I saw a place I really like and a landlord got in touch with me. 

Bad Start To Week

This week hasn't been great so far, and yesterday, for a few hours it seemed like nothing could go right. I spent tow hours trying to replace the brake pads on my bike without success, cooked a dish in a hurry and made a complete mess of it, I received confirmation that my landlord has it in for me and also an email from my university that will trigger a chain of lengthy and dispiriting back and forths Today, when I sheepishly took my bike to the mechanic he said it wasn't safe to ride. But, I managed to finish my paper and send it to my supervisor.
I have realized that motion is the best antidote to the blues. Keeping busy keeps one distracted from brewing troubles gives you some sense of achievement. Yes, most of my ducks are not upright but at least some are, thanks to my effort.

Giving Feedback

Yesterday, someone I barely know asked me if I would give him feedback on an academic paper. I agreed, and as I do, I started to overthink it. How frank could I be without coming across as a cad to this person I don't know? But if I was too kind what was the purpose of the feedback? I don't where this instinctive recourse to patronizing behaviour comes from? Is it from a people-pleasing desire?

Perspiration

The famous Edison saying about success being 99% perspiration, 1% inspiration couldn't be more true. I'm realizing that completing a PhD and having a successful academic career is all about being bloodyminded and doggedly determined. Academic research feels like a bottomless pit which sucks in everything you offer and keeps asking for more. Never have I worked my mind so hard and still felt like I wasn't doing enough. Of course, the work is interesting and I don't really have a life outside academia. But, I feel silly for thinking that a PhD could be a smooth ride and all those PhD horror memes were exaggerating the trials and tribulations of a PhD out of an heightened sense of self-importance. Of course, I still do feel they are exaggerating a little, especially since some of the people circulating them were not in their final year. I am beginning to appreciate how much of a training a PhD is for a career in research. Research capability is not innate, as I used to believe. It has to be developed.

Elite Networks

Its no secret that Britain's elite is particularly incestuous, but it is always interesting to get a glimpse of the elite in their natural habitat. Someone I follow on Twitter shared this photo collection from a party thrown by a right-wing rag with pretensions of refinement. The great and the good of the Tory party, from the  then prime minister downwards were present there along with the who's who of journalism. All smiles and laughs, looking supremely at ease in each other's presence. There was just a single Labour MP in the photos. When the people you report on are the people you socialize with, what impartiality are we talking about? No wonder the current Labour party leadership scares them. Not only are they socialists, they are also strangers who don't socialize in the same circles as top journalists. They are from another world, and deserve all the class contempt one can muster without making your animosity towards them obvious.