As an academic, there are certain rhythms to my life that I have taken for granted. Our year starts in August. That's our "shiny, new everything is going to be different and wonderful THIS year" time of the year. We don't officially say "Happy New Year" but that's what it feels like.
The actual New Year in January is pretty hellish. It's the middle of the year for (North American) academics. There is no "shiny." There is fatigue and drawing on our energy resources to start a new semester when all the evaluations, reports, student admissions, theses, dissertations, grants, and conference submissions all are due, at least for me.
After Spring Break, there's a light at the end of the tunnel and it's not necessarily a train. ((You know how old I am and how young my grad students are? I told that joke to them and they thought it was hysterical; the first time they'd ever heard it. How clever I am!!)) :-/
Anyhoo, May is hellish with all the defenses, finals, and ceremonies. But then we are done. DONE! I get about 5 to 6 weeks of working at home on my own while the kids are at school and I'm working on research. Once they are home, my mother-professor (Mofessor) role conflict increases exponentially and I cannot work, exercise, and garden as well and I do during those 5 precious weeks.
Except this Saturday. I finished grading my students' (excellent) final papers. I submitted the grades. I took a deep breath. And I realized: nothing changes. The kids are home. Dave is still working a wonky schedule so there is 7 day-a-week senior management coverage at his CCRC. We are not going anywhere. We are only leaving the house to exercise. I feel like I'm driving through Kansas and the landscape is flat and the highway is neverending. It's fine. But it is also isolating and desolate.
It's the sameness.
It's the ambiguity about how long this sameness is going to last. It's the fear that if we don't have this sameness Bridget or Christopher could get the 'Rona and, with their atypical responses to paraflu, end up in very bad places. I know that most people know about Bridget but click on Christopher's links to see what I now understand was the beginning of both of their weird lung problems.
It's not knowing what is going to happen with the University or the Public School system in the Fall. It's knowing that it's going to come back in the fall and seeing that New Zealand is already running low on flu vaccines and they are often the leading indicator of the flu season for North America.
It's walking around the neighborhood and doing the 6' shuffle with everyone else and being grateful I don't live around a bunch of whackadoos and also knowing THIS IS NOT NORMAL.
Most days are good. But there are always a few hours where I feel my entire being freak out a little bit. Maybe sometimes more than a little.
Here is a picture of me engaging in what is truly the best thing about my week: watching Columbo on the Hallmark Mystery Channel at 7 am on a Sunday morning. I do not understand why, but when Monday starts, I long to go back to this on a Sunday morning.
So how are you doing?
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