Mood Swings in Life and Lab
After every period of intense working at lab, I get depressed. All the things that fell apart at home during my period of intense work start clamoring for attention- the dishes, the laundry, my relationship with my husband...
The man and I get along fairly well most of the time- why else would we have got married, right? His life, however, is a lot more interesting than mine because he meets more people. Who wants to listen to a story about the bacteria that wouldn't grow on nutrient agar when they can listen about the overweight nun who smelt like a fish?
Stress levels in life too are different: I stress out (again) about bacteria or cells that don't grow. Man stresses out about dying people and amputating limbs... also, since he's a first year intern, he's the lowest in the pecking order at the hospital. I, on the other hand, am a spoiled, egomaniac of a grad student. My stresses include things as minor as not having the right buffer ordered and hence having to make it myself.
So, when I realize that things at home are literally falling apart or growing fungus, and spend an afternoon cleaning up, I think to myself, "Shit, I've worked so hard! For so little gratitude!" and throw a hissy fit at night and demand more attention from the man. Poor man! Attention from him means that he has to listen to my long winded stories about people at lab (the same ones that have been there for the past 4 years), not make any digressions to his own work and finally, as a cherry on the cake, has to take me driving- which is to say, he has to sit in the passenger seat while I drive his car.
Needless to say, this scheme almost always ends badly. I drive, he screams in terror, I cry, he yells at me not to, I sob and play the role of victim and then he apologizes and I do too. We then heave huge sighs, he drives back home, and we go to bed- he on the couch to watch TV and I on the bed to read a book. The next day, he runs off to work at 6am and I loll about in bed till 9. Having so much time on my hands, I can only replay the events of the previous night over and over again in my head and then feel terribly depressed and doubtful about everything.
Why do we put ourselves through this?
I've said this before and I'll repeat it again- just so that it stays in my head this time: I MUST work hard when he's working hard. And I MUST slack off when he has a holiday. Otherwise, we'll drive each other crazy and be forever unhappy. Housework will take care of itself...
The man and I get along fairly well most of the time- why else would we have got married, right? His life, however, is a lot more interesting than mine because he meets more people. Who wants to listen to a story about the bacteria that wouldn't grow on nutrient agar when they can listen about the overweight nun who smelt like a fish?
Stress levels in life too are different: I stress out (again) about bacteria or cells that don't grow. Man stresses out about dying people and amputating limbs... also, since he's a first year intern, he's the lowest in the pecking order at the hospital. I, on the other hand, am a spoiled, egomaniac of a grad student. My stresses include things as minor as not having the right buffer ordered and hence having to make it myself.
So, when I realize that things at home are literally falling apart or growing fungus, and spend an afternoon cleaning up, I think to myself, "Shit, I've worked so hard! For so little gratitude!" and throw a hissy fit at night and demand more attention from the man. Poor man! Attention from him means that he has to listen to my long winded stories about people at lab (the same ones that have been there for the past 4 years), not make any digressions to his own work and finally, as a cherry on the cake, has to take me driving- which is to say, he has to sit in the passenger seat while I drive his car.
Needless to say, this scheme almost always ends badly. I drive, he screams in terror, I cry, he yells at me not to, I sob and play the role of victim and then he apologizes and I do too. We then heave huge sighs, he drives back home, and we go to bed- he on the couch to watch TV and I on the bed to read a book. The next day, he runs off to work at 6am and I loll about in bed till 9. Having so much time on my hands, I can only replay the events of the previous night over and over again in my head and then feel terribly depressed and doubtful about everything.
Why do we put ourselves through this?
I've said this before and I'll repeat it again- just so that it stays in my head this time: I MUST work hard when he's working hard. And I MUST slack off when he has a holiday. Otherwise, we'll drive each other crazy and be forever unhappy. Housework will take care of itself...