Perspective

“It’s so humid here!” praised the interviewing student from Arizona. The discussion of the weather that included myself, Boss, and two other postdoctoral fellows ceased abruptly as we all stared at her.

I had been discussing how delightful the coolness felt – how the sunshine was to be sought, face raised to take in the warmth that contrasted so perfectly with the chill that lingered in the air. The dry air.

I now carry lotion in my car, moisturize my face again, drink more water, feel my throat get scratchy on my walks because the customary humidity has gone the way of the region’s normal heat. They’ve eased. It’s cooler and drier. Not humid at all!

“It’s actually pretty dry for us.” Boss said as I continued to stand silently, dumbfounded by the fact that I might be acclimating to southern weather. When I head back north, will I be bundled up in 40° weather? Oh, the shame. The bitter, bitter shame.

Boss and I have previously discussed perspective – mostly in relation to the jobs we do. I’ve said I could train anyone to do my job, and he’s nodded along. It’s not that hard – you read the papers and derive some equations. Write a bit of code based on what other people have done for similar projects. Ask questions, fill out paperwork, write proposals (get stuck writing proposals for over a year). It’s just work.

“I always think of my daughter.” He said fondly as I sat with him and his wife over dinner once. “We went to the beach for vacation and decided to get breakfast at this place right on the water. She wanted orange juice – she was probably only 3 or 4 – so they brought this glass of Florida orange juice. Probably the best orange juice you could get.

“And she looked at it, made a face, and pushed it away. Said it had “stuff” in it and she wanted the orange juice from home.” He laughed and his wife explained.

“I always made it from concentrate – in the little tubes, where you add water. There’s no pulp in the juice I made – the good stuff grossed her out.” And they shook their heads.

“I feel the same way about macaroni and cheese.” I offered. “If it’s not bright orange out of the blue box, I’ll likely be disappointed.”

“What you’re used to.” Boss nodded and his wife smiled kindly. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Except there can be something wrong with that, I think. As I’ve settled into heat and humidity and now frown over mildly dry days though I rejoice in the cool temperatures, so have I adapted to being sad. To feeling inadequate and somehow wrong for wanting to be loved, appreciated, successful. I generally feel bad – I believe it was the primary reason I slipped so effortlessly into such a dark place here recently. My resources had evaporated in my emotional environment. I was already in ‘just cope’ mode, so when things went to hell, there was no strength left to fight.

I’m trying to learn to be happy again. It sounds ridiculous, but when Unnamed Friend said – a few weeks ago - that she hadn’t met the real Katie yet, I was shocked to agree. I’ve been buried under a film of sadness for so long that anything other than superficial cheer feels a bit forced and foreign. And that, my friends, isn’t good. I’ve never wanted to have a new friend who only knew me as distant, withdrawn, and depressed. It’s not the real Katie, so I’m struggling out of it.

“I wasn’t so productive today.” Noted Unnamed Friend as we wandered to a used bookstore before our evening outing yesterday. I considered for a moment before responding.

“I did OK. Turned a few things in, went to a meeting and seminar – I stared at walls, but still. I looked over some revisions – it should end up being a good paper.

“I guess I wasn’t that productive either, but given my recent professional performance, today went well. You just need a different frame of reference!” I decided happily, and she nodded and smiled.

I believe I’m trying to change my frame of reference. Expecting more of myself in some areas, giving myself a break in others. I’m eager to work on my paper – it would be a big deal if this journal accepted the revisions. The shift in weather has made my morning walks much more pleasant. Even Chienne sprints from her stops to sniff for animals instead of trudging along while panting. I’m trying to make myself think about God and my approach in living with Him. I want to readjust – to have the morose attitude feel weird rather than appropriate.

And there are certainly steps to do that. After I tried other kinds of macaroni and cheese, I realized they really were quite good. I personally like orange juice pulpy, though I can live without it if need be. When it’s dry – or at least dry to me? I drink more water, put on lotion, start the humidifier. There are ways to be comfortable – no, not just comfortable or content, but happy – even when life isn’t perfect. To enjoy the challenges and giggle over the mistakes. To seek out interesting people not necessarily because I deserve them, but because they’re so much fun. To do work not because my skills and intelligence are superior, but because it gives me a sense of accomplishment to try.

It’s a process – learning to be happy again, adjusting to changes. But there are unexpected benefits too. The lotion I'm using to combat my dry skin? It smells really nice.