I have a little grump on, which might explain the nature of this blog entry.
Having recently started working full time, after more than 8 years solidly spent at university, there are a number of changes and adjustments I have had to make in my life and the lifestyle to which I was accustomed. Most of these changes and adjustments are not quite as bad as I make them out to be at 6am when I’m struggling to remember how to work the shower, bleary-eyed with sleep and still a bit confused as to whether there really is a Nutella-monster that wants to turn me into a piece of toast.
One of these changes is having a routine. Nowt wrong with that. It’s nice to know where I’m meant to be and when, for a set time of the day. The fact that I wish my routine started a couple of hours later than it currently does is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
In my previous life as a PhD student, I had no routine whatsoever (and yes, this was indeed part of the problem and definitely one of the reasons why it took so bloody long to finally finish the damn thing), everything was up to me. When I got up, when I went to bed, when I sat at my desk, when I watched Frasier re-runs, when I went for a look around the shops… It was just too much freedom for a champion procrastinator such as myself. That being said – I was a master of my own time, which I loved, although I didn’t have any money to do anything with that time, which I loved somewhat less.
Now that I’m gainfully employed I have much, much less free time. But I do have cash to blow on meaningless frivolities (like getting my nails done and buying coffee) which make that precious free time more enjoyable. I relish my free time now, rather than being burdened by it. Plus it is guilt free, which is something that your average, right-minded person (and by that I mean everyone who has not done a PhD) takes absolutely for granted. For 8 years I felt guilty when I was doing anything other than work. What is surprising is how the weight of that guilt didn’t a) crush me because I so often did so little work in my free time or b) inspire me to do more work. I refer you to my above statement about being a champion procrastinator. I could have won awards for my procrastination, except they’d never hold an award ceremony for it because everyone would leave making their travel plans to the last minute and end up not being able to go. Sigh.
What with now being able to relish my free time, one would think that make the most of it by embarking on adventures (mind you, look at what happened on my last adventure), expanding my horizons, exploring new avenues of all sorts… but I don’t. I tend to spend my free time sleeping, eating and vegged out in front of the TV with my laptop open, surfing various not-especially-enlightening websites (apart from a couple of special mentions such as this one, this one and, oh yeah!, this one) thus giving neither my full attention and gleaning far little from either than I would have if I had bothered! That and going shopping, which is always fun… especially when you actually have money.
Which all brings me to the final change that I want to talk about. Being alone. When I was doing the PhD (and living away from my home university) I spent cascading vast quantities of time alone. All day in fact. O would get up at stupid o’clock in the morning to go to work and then come home at some point in the late afternoon/evening, leaving me all that time by myself. I am fairly solitary by nature, I need alone time or I get even more grumpy than usual, but this was too much even for me. There were tools at my disposal to somewhat alleviate that feeling of being ALONE but really there isn’t much of a substitute for real human company – which is why I had a tendency to bounce up and down like a little Terrier puppy whenever O came home, demanding attention and to be taken out for a walk and then getting all downhearted and dejected if the cruel, mean-hearted, villain dared to even grumble that he was “too tired” after working for maybe 12 hours that day. Tsk.
So yeah, alone. Now I didn’t enjoy being alone, as I said. However I am now in the position when I look back fondly at certain aspects of that time and wish to be whisked back in a time machine for just a few precious hours of sweet, silent solitude.
I was not prepared for what it would be like to work full time in office in many ways, but definitely the aspect that is grating the most right now is that I am never, ever, alone! From the moment I arrive in the morning until the moment I leave there is always someone there. And even then that’s not the start or the end because O and I work in the same building and so drive to and from work together (but that doesn’t really count because I picked him to be the person who is always around and, frankly, I’d much rather he was there than wasn’t). So, yeah. Even on those merciful occasions when everyone else (all three of them) is out of the office and I have it to myself, the phone is ringing and people are stopping by to see the people who aren’t there.
There. is. no. escape…!
I go for a cigarette break and there is someone there, someone I’ve nodded to twice before and who now wants to have meaningless chit-chat about the same old stuff that I’ve had meaningless chit-chats about before because I’m the new one. Some days this is fine, and some of the people are very nice, but some days I just want to smoke my cigarette and play Sudoku on my phone without having to explain that I’ve been here X months, yes I like Abu Dhabi very much, I live in Y, yes it is getting hot now, blah blah AAARRRRGGGHHHH!
There is one place where one can pretty much always expect to be alone, no matter where you are (unless you have little children of the type that I was who are less sentient being and more semi-permanently attached tail) and that is the loo. Surely, surely, one can reasonably expect to be able to go to the loo in some semblance of isolation, right? WRONG! Ok, it’s not like anyone actually comes into the little cubicle with me and stands there watching, but both of the bathrooms that are within walking distance of my office regularly have the cleaning ladies in them – all the time! Chatting on the phone or with each other if there’s more than one. I can understand it, I really can. If there isn’t much work going on it’s not like they have an office to sit in like I do, but still! It means that you have to engage in even more perfunctory small talk just to have empty your bladder for heaven’s sake! Granted it’s little more than a “hello, how are you?” and a “goodbye” when leaving, but in a day when I have already had 100 other meaningless conversations that absolutely do not need to happen and when I’m at GRUMPCON 3 and rising, that is one more nothing interaction that makes me want to scream and long for the days when I would sit in desolate slump for hours on end, staring at the fake company on the TV screen and wishing with all my might for one little meaningless conversation or unnecessary, nothing interaction.
Having recently started working full time, after more than 8 years solidly spent at university, there are a number of changes and adjustments I have had to make in my life and the lifestyle to which I was accustomed. Most of these changes and adjustments are not quite as bad as I make them out to be at 6am when I’m struggling to remember how to work the shower, bleary-eyed with sleep and still a bit confused as to whether there really is a Nutella-monster that wants to turn me into a piece of toast.
One of these changes is having a routine. Nowt wrong with that. It’s nice to know where I’m meant to be and when, for a set time of the day. The fact that I wish my routine started a couple of hours later than it currently does is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
In my previous life as a PhD student, I had no routine whatsoever (and yes, this was indeed part of the problem and definitely one of the reasons why it took so bloody long to finally finish the damn thing), everything was up to me. When I got up, when I went to bed, when I sat at my desk, when I watched Frasier re-runs, when I went for a look around the shops… It was just too much freedom for a champion procrastinator such as myself. That being said – I was a master of my own time, which I loved, although I didn’t have any money to do anything with that time, which I loved somewhat less.
Now that I’m gainfully employed I have much, much less free time. But I do have cash to blow on meaningless frivolities (like getting my nails done and buying coffee) which make that precious free time more enjoyable. I relish my free time now, rather than being burdened by it. Plus it is guilt free, which is something that your average, right-minded person (and by that I mean everyone who has not done a PhD) takes absolutely for granted. For 8 years I felt guilty when I was doing anything other than work. What is surprising is how the weight of that guilt didn’t a) crush me because I so often did so little work in my free time or b) inspire me to do more work. I refer you to my above statement about being a champion procrastinator. I could have won awards for my procrastination, except they’d never hold an award ceremony for it because everyone would leave making their travel plans to the last minute and end up not being able to go. Sigh.
What with now being able to relish my free time, one would think that make the most of it by embarking on adventures (mind you, look at what happened on my last adventure), expanding my horizons, exploring new avenues of all sorts… but I don’t. I tend to spend my free time sleeping, eating and vegged out in front of the TV with my laptop open, surfing various not-especially-enlightening websites (apart from a couple of special mentions such as this one, this one and, oh yeah!, this one) thus giving neither my full attention and gleaning far little from either than I would have if I had bothered! That and going shopping, which is always fun… especially when you actually have money.
Which all brings me to the final change that I want to talk about. Being alone. When I was doing the PhD (and living away from my home university) I spent cascading vast quantities of time alone. All day in fact. O would get up at stupid o’clock in the morning to go to work and then come home at some point in the late afternoon/evening, leaving me all that time by myself. I am fairly solitary by nature, I need alone time or I get even more grumpy than usual, but this was too much even for me. There were tools at my disposal to somewhat alleviate that feeling of being ALONE but really there isn’t much of a substitute for real human company – which is why I had a tendency to bounce up and down like a little Terrier puppy whenever O came home, demanding attention and to be taken out for a walk and then getting all downhearted and dejected if the cruel, mean-hearted, villain dared to even grumble that he was “too tired” after working for maybe 12 hours that day. Tsk.
So yeah, alone. Now I didn’t enjoy being alone, as I said. However I am now in the position when I look back fondly at certain aspects of that time and wish to be whisked back in a time machine for just a few precious hours of sweet, silent solitude.
I was not prepared for what it would be like to work full time in office in many ways, but definitely the aspect that is grating the most right now is that I am never, ever, alone! From the moment I arrive in the morning until the moment I leave there is always someone there. And even then that’s not the start or the end because O and I work in the same building and so drive to and from work together (but that doesn’t really count because I picked him to be the person who is always around and, frankly, I’d much rather he was there than wasn’t). So, yeah. Even on those merciful occasions when everyone else (all three of them) is out of the office and I have it to myself, the phone is ringing and people are stopping by to see the people who aren’t there.
There. is. no. escape…!
I go for a cigarette break and there is someone there, someone I’ve nodded to twice before and who now wants to have meaningless chit-chat about the same old stuff that I’ve had meaningless chit-chats about before because I’m the new one. Some days this is fine, and some of the people are very nice, but some days I just want to smoke my cigarette and play Sudoku on my phone without having to explain that I’ve been here X months, yes I like Abu Dhabi very much, I live in Y, yes it is getting hot now, blah blah AAARRRRGGGHHHH!
There is one place where one can pretty much always expect to be alone, no matter where you are (unless you have little children of the type that I was who are less sentient being and more semi-permanently attached tail) and that is the loo. Surely, surely, one can reasonably expect to be able to go to the loo in some semblance of isolation, right? WRONG! Ok, it’s not like anyone actually comes into the little cubicle with me and stands there watching, but both of the bathrooms that are within walking distance of my office regularly have the cleaning ladies in them – all the time! Chatting on the phone or with each other if there’s more than one. I can understand it, I really can. If there isn’t much work going on it’s not like they have an office to sit in like I do, but still! It means that you have to engage in even more perfunctory small talk just to have empty your bladder for heaven’s sake! Granted it’s little more than a “hello, how are you?” and a “goodbye” when leaving, but in a day when I have already had 100 other meaningless conversations that absolutely do not need to happen and when I’m at GRUMPCON 3 and rising, that is one more nothing interaction that makes me want to scream and long for the days when I would sit in desolate slump for hours on end, staring at the fake company on the TV screen and wishing with all my might for one little meaningless conversation or unnecessary, nothing interaction.
2 comments:
I sympathise. We have study booths at work where you can go for confidential conversations or quiet time. I like them very much!
Sounds wonderful!
Lucky you CG ;-)
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