I am, in fact, a cat person
The pace of my life has slowed incredibly.
Not that the life of a grad student is necessarily exciting or anything. But when I woke up every morning, I had a list (sometimes written but more often than not in the form of a knote posted on my desktop) of things to do. Despite the anxiety and the stress, it felt good to know that I was doing something. Researching the debates between political philosophers about the relationship between cognition, the media, and democracy may not seem interesting to most, but I woke up everyday with my thoughts racing. And teaching...a pain, often, but certainly the most enjoyable way to earn money that I've discovered so far.
This past week I've been doing two "jobs" (house and office sitting) but essentially, I've just been serving as a place-holder for my father. He never takes vacations, at least not during the workweek, and this week he decided to go on a trip with his ladyfriend. His trip has left me in charge of not only two houses, but three dogs, two immature/unstable siblings, and an office as well. I can definitely say that I one day planned to have a home, a family, and a business of sorts of my own, but being thrown into managing someone else's has been difficult.
(Well, pragmatically, its been fairly easy. Feeding animals/children and serving as a human answering machine don't require too much labor. However, their dependency has siphoned away the freedom and independence that I so closely value at this stage of my life. One hardly needs to read Pavlov's research to understand that when a creature has been trained such that they cannot piss without your presence that psychologically they cannot do much else for themselves either...)
So it goes.
I guess that if I hadn't decided to leave Temple/Philadelphia as soon as I'm able, I might have stayed for the summer, moved into the city, and gotten to know my colleagues a bit better. I'm sure that, emotionally, it would have been the best thing for me. Returning to Louisville has been a mixed bag. I drift from evenings of comfort and pleasure to moments of acute pain. But then again most people can't help touching a sore tooth with their tongue. That's so maddeningly cryptic, I know, but I don't care to explain at present. At least not publicly.
Alcohol, however, is quite cheap here.
Need to use my time to write like I told myself I would. A great fear consumes me everytime I sit down with my notes. If only I could find the same confidence I have in academic writing for my creative pursuits. Developed the first through constant practice and careful attention to/evaluation of criticism...just keep at it, I suppose.
Not that the life of a grad student is necessarily exciting or anything. But when I woke up every morning, I had a list (sometimes written but more often than not in the form of a knote posted on my desktop) of things to do. Despite the anxiety and the stress, it felt good to know that I was doing something. Researching the debates between political philosophers about the relationship between cognition, the media, and democracy may not seem interesting to most, but I woke up everyday with my thoughts racing. And teaching...a pain, often, but certainly the most enjoyable way to earn money that I've discovered so far.
This past week I've been doing two "jobs" (house and office sitting) but essentially, I've just been serving as a place-holder for my father. He never takes vacations, at least not during the workweek, and this week he decided to go on a trip with his ladyfriend. His trip has left me in charge of not only two houses, but three dogs, two immature/unstable siblings, and an office as well. I can definitely say that I one day planned to have a home, a family, and a business of sorts of my own, but being thrown into managing someone else's has been difficult.
(Well, pragmatically, its been fairly easy. Feeding animals/children and serving as a human answering machine don't require too much labor. However, their dependency has siphoned away the freedom and independence that I so closely value at this stage of my life. One hardly needs to read Pavlov's research to understand that when a creature has been trained such that they cannot piss without your presence that psychologically they cannot do much else for themselves either...)
So it goes.
I guess that if I hadn't decided to leave Temple/Philadelphia as soon as I'm able, I might have stayed for the summer, moved into the city, and gotten to know my colleagues a bit better. I'm sure that, emotionally, it would have been the best thing for me. Returning to Louisville has been a mixed bag. I drift from evenings of comfort and pleasure to moments of acute pain. But then again most people can't help touching a sore tooth with their tongue. That's so maddeningly cryptic, I know, but I don't care to explain at present. At least not publicly.
Alcohol, however, is quite cheap here.
Need to use my time to write like I told myself I would. A great fear consumes me everytime I sit down with my notes. If only I could find the same confidence I have in academic writing for my creative pursuits. Developed the first through constant practice and careful attention to/evaluation of criticism...just keep at it, I suppose.