if i had one of those little indicators on the sidebar that emoticon’ed my mood for now, it’d say (as Suz would) “meh”.
my movies from netflix lately have all been highbrow art flicks (a depressing naturalistic thing about an israeli teen and her prostitute mom) and dreary faux-noir (even you clive owen fans, don’t bother with ‘i’ll sleep when i’m dead’. trust me). nothing too escape-y.
i’ve hit rather a plateau on the unpacking & dolling up the house. on one hand, it’s rather nice to live alone, as i don’t have to deal with where to put anyone else’s crap, or compromise with anyone on where i want to put my crap. on the other hand, the dog doesn’t exactly provide any impetus to get things done, and with the house in a state of disarray, so is my mental state.
i’ve been staying up too late (to wit: it’s 11.40 now, and i’m nowhere near bed), and while that had been due to a pair of good books that showed up from amazon, not enough sleep = not so perky at work the next day, of course.
which brings us to work. knowing how something is going to be, accepting that it’s going to be that way, and actually living through it are all very different things. back in the day when i started my residency, i went through a period of about 6 or 8 weeks or so where i was borderline depressed. the program at JH is very hands-off unsupervised, very real-world, very ‘figure it out on your own, ask if you need help’. it took that <2 months or so to find my place, figure things out, get settled in, and find ways to be useful. i fully expected that same thing to happen in the new job, and was going to be ok with it. it’s not as if i have a job where i sit at a workbench and make widgets all day (i.e., more employees mean more widgets, skim manual and start production immediately), and it’s not as if the whole place was falling apart due to short staffing before i got there (my position has been vacant for nearly a year, and the other vets have gotten quite comfortable with picking up the slack). things do happen, i’m getting more people’s names right, i’m getting a more solid idea of what all we do, i do have some things scheduled for the coming weeks, i’m really looking forward to the conference…in november. i’m not hating things, certainly not regretting this job at all, but i just don’t feel **useful** yet. and either i just have too much “work ethic” or i got conditioned while working for the slave-driver phd at the crack lab, but not doing much translates into paranoia that i’m about to get in trouble for it. once more, and even from a few states away, Lynn is my guiding light: she’s having the same issue with her gig, too.
it feels lame to bitch about things that were all mine by choice: i picked this job, i choose to live alone, it’s my f’ing netflix queue, i set my own bedtime for chrissakes. and really, is any of it worth bitching over? i was reading some blogs this evening, and one person’s post about her moving on from a lame job and a lame boyfriend hit home. she says “I am loathe to make change. Conversely, I am one of the very best adapters I know.” i’m an eternal optimist in regards to my personal affairs, i’m dead convinced that all things eventually work themselves out in just the way they should. i know all this will too. it’s just the getting there is frustrating as all f$*@.