i think i'm a really bad administrator. today i've been organising funding and reimbursement for research expenses, finalising interview participants, finding a transcriber, filling up my diary for the coming weeks, clearing the decks.
each time i do this i feel a sense of achievement. yet i suspect that what equates to 2 hours work for many people is a day's work for me. i haven't written a word of thesis.
but i did swim.
and i did have ex breakfast.
he's 'kind of seeing somebody'. up until this revelation the air was tense, the conversation stilted, and there was lots of pause in which to eat my strawberry crumble. i asked what he was doing for xmas. he couldn't tell me. he questioned whether it was worth us meeting like this. i said probably not if we're not allowed to talk about anything aside from our past. and then he released the elephant. i told him i suspected this from earlier conversations we'd had. i reminded him that he can't keep secrets.
anyway, i feel relieved. conversation was easier after this. i'm not sure if relief is a typical emotion when you find out that your ex is seeing someone. but maybe, once again, it wasn't a typical relationship. and maybe no relationship is.
today is also about not paying for things: my library fines were cleared (it's amnesty week), i'm getting money for research costs, i got a free slice of cake.
the woman said of the carrot cake: "because it's the 2nd last piece, you get 2 pieces". great. except it wasn't. she offered to heat it up. i said no. she insisted that she heat it up. the man insisted that it was only 3 degrees in the cake cabinet. he said it many times and eventually took out the temperature gauge to show me. he was right. i gave in. she heated my cake, icing and all. and actually, it was probably better heated as it wasn't so fresh. and it wasn't so great.
i ate it now, whilst typing this, and in no time it was eaten (bar a very dry corner). now i'm feeling heavy, overly-sugared, and anti-cake.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
today and tomorrow (without beach)
today it's just me and lottie at home. she's good company. she puts herself in my periphery, makes sounds when i walk past her. shifts herself from bed to floorboards, all stretched out and hot. and i'm hot. and thoughts of the beach rise here and there. david bowie sings about modern love.
i'm contemplating my role as the keeper of secrets. another interview today. i'm excited and exhausted by this, depending upon how i think of the interviews. when it's 'data' (which it is) it's exciting. it's rich. it's the flesh and bone of a thesis. i get pangs of excitement at points of discussion that shimmer, revealing themselves as something important to this thesis and this argument, connecting to theory and the words of other participants.
but there's another side where i dig and unravel people's thoughts, words, feelings, and i'm exposed to some raw, fleshy material. and i feel an urge to apply bandages, to touch, to reassure. but i can't. and this makes me uneasy. i guess 'participants' may not want this anyway, and it probably does create a better environment for people to divulge and shed things. but i shed nothing, just take it all in.
these discussions aren't dissimilar to those i have with friends. yet they're exempt from my input and my stories. maybe this is part of my struggle. it's a onesided dialogue in which only they divulge. i'm left with secrets, both theirs and mine. friendship discussions of this nature can be exhausting too. but they form part of something larger, a continuum, another chapter in a book unfinished. the interview is finished. as is my relationship with the interviewee, in most cases (some are attached to broad social networks, so it's likely that we'll have further contact down the track).
anyway. i'm feeling hot and exhausted. i didn't sleep enough hours last night. i'm thinking about a few guys that currently intrigue me, and i don't know what to make of this. i think it's probably just a reaction to feeling lonely, and therefore imagining potential futures where i'm at the centre of someone's thoughts. i don't want a boyfriend, yet i do. i don't want to see my ex tomorrow, yet i do. and the thought of meeting him blurs my perspective on all of this stuff. i want celibacy, but i don't. i want intimacy, but i don't. i want to stop thinking about the words of interviewees and applying them to my own situation. i can't help feel that they're educating me in matters of sex, love, and desire, despite them being younger, and seemingly (but not) less sorted.
to do tomorrow:
i'm contemplating my role as the keeper of secrets. another interview today. i'm excited and exhausted by this, depending upon how i think of the interviews. when it's 'data' (which it is) it's exciting. it's rich. it's the flesh and bone of a thesis. i get pangs of excitement at points of discussion that shimmer, revealing themselves as something important to this thesis and this argument, connecting to theory and the words of other participants.
but there's another side where i dig and unravel people's thoughts, words, feelings, and i'm exposed to some raw, fleshy material. and i feel an urge to apply bandages, to touch, to reassure. but i can't. and this makes me uneasy. i guess 'participants' may not want this anyway, and it probably does create a better environment for people to divulge and shed things. but i shed nothing, just take it all in.
these discussions aren't dissimilar to those i have with friends. yet they're exempt from my input and my stories. maybe this is part of my struggle. it's a onesided dialogue in which only they divulge. i'm left with secrets, both theirs and mine. friendship discussions of this nature can be exhausting too. but they form part of something larger, a continuum, another chapter in a book unfinished. the interview is finished. as is my relationship with the interviewee, in most cases (some are attached to broad social networks, so it's likely that we'll have further contact down the track).
anyway. i'm feeling hot and exhausted. i didn't sleep enough hours last night. i'm thinking about a few guys that currently intrigue me, and i don't know what to make of this. i think it's probably just a reaction to feeling lonely, and therefore imagining potential futures where i'm at the centre of someone's thoughts. i don't want a boyfriend, yet i do. i don't want to see my ex tomorrow, yet i do. and the thought of meeting him blurs my perspective on all of this stuff. i want celibacy, but i don't. i want intimacy, but i don't. i want to stop thinking about the words of interviewees and applying them to my own situation. i can't help feel that they're educating me in matters of sex, love, and desire, despite them being younger, and seemingly (but not) less sorted.
to do tomorrow:
- breakfast with ex (i hope you're not reading this)
- return that overdue library book
- write several pages about condom technologies
- book tickets to xavier le roy
- swim
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)