Everyone in graduate school makes big plans for summer. They say that they'll read a stack of books, do a bunch of research, learn Swedish, whatever. It rarely happens. The problem is that, for almost everyone, you only do as much as you're forced to do. Simone, to the left, would be scolding me. "Zut alors! You have read so little today! Stupid American! I kill you! I kill you!" Maybe she'd say that.The marching bands are just bizzare. Since 8:30am, there's been a constant rattle of snare drums and a kind of haphazard brass tooting along Laurel St. and down Center. The staging area for all 55 bands is in front of our parking lot.
I've been feeling fairly gloomy lately. Before we moved, Becky's dad showed me a study he had read before he retired, while he was an executive VP for this enormous multinational. It was about the experiential emotional curve involved in transitions. There's a spike of elation at the start of a new experience, followed by a long trough of depression. I think he wanted me to read it so that I'd be aware of the odds and be even more diligent in taking care of his daughter. I don't think I'm really properly depressed right now, but I sure am cranky.
3 comments:
Aw, well, maybe you can use that crankiness to your advantage. Look at Ana's inner cranky old academic! He's churnin' out a diss proposal!
I don't have an inner cranky academic. I have an inner Jewish mother with moodswings and guilt trips.
But I noticed that I can get a lot done when I'm cranky too. On Monday, on three hours of sleep, four shots of espresso, and sixteen ounces of coffee...I talked in class for the first time. Who knew? Maybe my inner Jewish mother is productive when she's bitchy and sleep-deprived.
It was fun "hanging out" tonight.
Be well, and bon chance.
If you only work as hard as you have to, you still get the requisite piece of paper. *shrugs* but who knows what I'm going to do with it. :) Hang in there! and kudos about the positive attitude towards the bands - they probably don't even realize how inconvenient they're being.... happy thought.
You could always channel any signs of depression into a new creative outlet. Take a cue from gender and perform yourself into a new scholarly position! Adopt the brooding, all faded black wearing (w/ white tennis shoes), chain-smoking, muttering incoherently in French, I'm really a tragic genius role. It'll be fun! Just work on convincing people that your daily struggle with your own genius is what is wearing you down. Fro more advice see "menancholia" by Dürer.
Seriously though, I hear you, I'm just pulling myself out of a don't-want-to-read-must-surf-internet-all-day-long-on-the-couch phase. People help, and you'll get through it.
Or slaughter a deer and run maniacly around n the blood holding the antlers on your head screaming "I am the deer god".
Hm, think I don't want to write my research proposal much?
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