The plan
May 1, 2011
I should probalby record this, because I am easily swayed and easily swept off my feet.
I think I would like to do a post-doc, somewhere out of England. Definitely a three-year stint in America or likewise, and definitely a three-year stint somewhere more challenging, likely somewhere in Europe where English isn’t spoken. Think I’m feeling less… intrepid about this, just because, just because I know I am socially anhedonic and I know what I am like in foreign countries, I know that the experiences one tends to have with brief dalliances are shallow and the same, like the first five minutes of small talk that you have at the start of conversations, I don’t want to have it over and over again. I don’t want to go through dislocation and isolation for several months of settling in everywhere I go, I don’t want to have only superficial friends who are all people who are not my sort, I don’t want to frequent terrible clubs with terrible music on non-negotiable nights out, just because these are the only friends you have in the country and you have to let your activities be dictated by fitting in and beating down isolation. But at the same time, I want to travel and live in new places, and I think given this chosen career I might be able to fit it in.
The only terminal problem I can forsee here is Yin. Most days this is too large a concern, for me to contemplate tearing myself away from, but in three years time, I’m hoping we might be able to sort something out. Coming with me, for example, since I know he wants to travel at least some, but in my heart of hearts I kind of know, this isn’t really a case of converging desires, rather a case of grumpy concessions. Sneaking suspicions, been having lately, that I don’t really fit into his life and his social headspace, the way I’d like to; in the same way as well, he doesn’t really fit into mine; not because I don’t love him to bits, but just as a natural product and cause of him not being The Sort Of Guy I Usually Go For. It’s nobody’s fault, but I’m starting to think, we don’t really fit together. It doesn’t help, this tense sensation when we’re around other people, that I’m a care-takee rather than a part of your social landscape. Could we grow into all this? God knows, hope so, but meanwhile, even though it’s not foremost in my mind, most of the time, I think I need to start assembling Life As I Want It To Be, which includes thinking in these terms, about where I’d like to be when I’m thirty. Right now, looking towards summer and three more years in London, I can feel myself making tentative steps towards doing more with my life, even if it still feels like a bit of a gamble, even if current anxiety about work is only held at bay with the knowledge that my doctoral funding isn’t dependent on my MSc grade. Optimistically, 3 years PhD and 2.5 x 3 year Post-doc stints later, I should be blowing out some candles in some foreign land. That’s the plan, Stan.
And also, random: what did I do, Royal Wedding day? Slept through the wedding, skipped a barbecue, hung out in the park, sat in the sun, climbed trees, took photos. Not too shabby at all.
