In which I am too nice for my own good. And, possibly, doomed.
It has been a long week. It began on Monday. Oddly enough.
I was just starting to work on a new paper and thought that I could use some advice. I decided to talk to Dr. L. As I arrived at her office, I felt nervous. I would like to say "strangely nervous", but this happens to me just about every time I need to talk about anything important, talk to someone I haven't seen in a while or enter a teacher's office. For a moment I actually thought "She's probably busy... It's not that urgent, really... I can figure something out myself," but I forced myself to knock on the door anyway. It turned out to be a good decision. Besides the paper, we talked about my plans for the future. I guess studying in Gdańsk isn't out of the question. Dr. L. recommends professor K. as a potential advisor and, while he seems to be a mysterious and elusive figure, I do have six years of experience in tracking down mysterious and elusive scientists. My life is just weird like that. And, of course, staying in Gdańsk has some advantages if I want to keep the quantum job as long as I can, which seems like a good idea right now.
I felt strangely tired on the my way back home. I stood for half an hour on the crowded train, feeling, for some reason, as though I had just walked thirty kilometers with something heavy on my back* and it was so stuffy in there. I got off the train and walked towards the Street Where the Sun Doesn't Shine. I was tired, hungry and just wanted to get back home already. As I passed the bus stop, I thought I heard someone calling me. I turned around and saw an older woman in a wheelchair. She needed a little help getting somewhere. I was tired and in a bit of a hurry, but, hey, it costs me nothing to be nice.
For a while we just sat at the bus stop and talked. It's a little strange, really. The woman apparently has plenty of friends, but still had the need to spill her soul at a stranger like that. I guess some people just really like to talk. After only a few minutes I had known her for years. I had also agreed to help her clean her flat. She had offered to pay me for that and, to my own great relief, I had agreed to that too. It's nice to know that I'm not complelely insane.
The chair was heavy, had uneven wheels and pulled a little to the right all the time. According to its owner, it was also the most uncomfortable chair in the world. There was some sort of long, complicated story behind it, but I can't remember the details at the moment. I helped the woman all the way to the elevator in her building and promissed to come and help the next day. I returned home late, tired, wondering whose incredibly stupid idea it had been to design a building with stairs on the way to the elevator and with a reason to get up the next morning.
When I arrived at her flat the next day, I was a little overwhelmed by what I saw. Boxes, bags, suitcases and assorted junk piled up randomly all the way to the ceiling. The woman and her old mother seemed convinced that not only did everything in there have its place, but that place was so obvious that "Don't just stand there" was a sufficiently precise instruction. There simply wasn't enough space on the shelves for all that stuff. Or even on the floor. I did my best to prevent avalanches.
At first they told me to take my time. Only after two hours I found out the younger woman has a plane to catch. In two hours. And hasn't finished packing yet. And we absolutely need to finish cleaning before she leaves. And at the same time the mother has misplaced some money. Which they need right now. The situation got tense. As the two women got more and more nervous about the whole thing, they started arguing with each other and giving me contradicting instructions. After another two hours of "Open the window", "Close the window", "What are you waiting for?! Hurry up!" and "You need to rest, dear", it was time to leave. Of course, since they hadn't found the lost money yet, I would have to wait a few days to get paid. The suitcase was heavier than its owner and her wheelchair put together and I was already exhausted, but as I helped her into the taxi the woman thanked me as though this was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. For a moment it almost seemed worth it.
I had promised to check on the old woman from time to time while her daughter was away and left them my phone number in case they need any more help from me. It was probably a bad move. On top of everything else, I seem to be in danger of getting myself involved in the wheelchair-bound woman's feud with her brother and other random family drama. The reasonable course of action would be to run and never look back. Screw getting paid, this is about my sanity. But I'm just too damn nice for that.
I meant to go there again some time this week, but more urgent things kept coming up, such as working on that paper or meeting my boss to talk about the new deal. Sometimes I felt bad about putting it off like that, but I really was busy. Then I would feel a little worried about feeling bad about it. After all, I didn't owe anyone anything. If anything, they owed me some money and, as far as I was concerned, they could keep it. It was all starting to look like a ridiculous movie plot: The protagonist focuses on her career too much to pay attention to the people around her until a random wacky coincidence forces her to rethink her life and find True Happiness in helping others (or else), or something. And possibly teach a brother and sister to get along. And it's all very cute and heartwarming. And bullshit. Still, there had to be a way to avoid the bullshit scenario while still doing more or less the right thing, if only to prove its bullshit-ness.
Today, I went there again. I don't like to break my promises without a good reason. But when I introduced myself, a stranger's voice on the entryphone told me to go away. That must have been the brother's girlfriend. She did indeed sound like an unpleasant person. On the other hand, she had answered my question. If she refuses to let me in, at least I have an excuse to stay out, right?
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* But without the fresh air, pretty views or any of the things that can make this kind of effort worth it, of course.