No hurry

I’ve been riding the bus to my car lately. Between the cold and the hurry to get home and beat traffic, it just seems the more logical choice. But faced with hours left to wait to drive Friend home, I decided to take Ken at his word that the rain had eased and the temperatures were pleasant and grabbed my keys so I could move my car closer to the building.

I wandered slowly toward the parking lot, breathing in the blessedly humid air – it’s been dry here, though I can’t bring myself to complain about our “treacherously cold” temperatures that rarely dipped below 20 degrees – and enjoying the mild breeze. I decided it was unusual that I wasn’t trying to hurry. I had no care for where the bus was – I hadn’t walked because I thought it would be faster. I just wanted to spend time outside while I waited for my day to end.

Maria and I met with Boss today, settling into a conference room where she presented a blank sheet of paper and began to detail her needs at the moment.

“What?” Boss said immediately, leaning forward and squinting at her. I bit back a grin – he’s painfully sweet and he struggles with both his hearing and her accent. Throughout the meeting, he repeated what she said, trying to make sure he understood. I tried to sit back and listen but am too possessive of my work to let some things go by without comment. But we made some progress on defining where Boss and I think the interesting problems are. She took notes – writing down websites and names and concepts. I couldn’t get a read on what she was thinking, so I started to frown and grow concerned. I’m worried about helping her, partially because I’m out of practice. Partially because I just got myself all settled – I selfishly don’t want her to throw me off balance. And I do like her - I want her to do well here.

Maria switched fields recently. Went from surfing to ice fishing as the case may be. And while they both involve water, that’s about the only connection. So her coursework and previous training is all pretty irrelevant as far as I can tell. Not that it’s wasted time – I’m far enough along to know that you never know what skill or knowledge is going to help you out – but it’s not really applicable to what I’m trying to do here.

“So…you’re what? The middle of your second year?” I asked, pretty sure I was right.

“Fourth.” She answered and I’m sure I looked taken aback. I left grad school after 4 years. Just starting a new project – learning about the options, looking at developing a skill set, growing familiar with the field in general – was shocking to me.

“Some of my friends told me to just finish with what I’d been doing. Get my degree and leave.” I nodded my agreement. Why draw out grad school more than necessary? As difficult as parts of this post-doc have been, there’s tremendous relief in knowing I could walk away. I have a doctorate. I don’t necessarily have to use it, but I have it. I hurried my way through and did what needed to be done and escaped. And while I don’t really recommend my method to others, it did work.

“I had trouble with the lab. I didn’t like the work. I thought this stuff was more interesting, so I moved.”

“Wow.” I said, still thinking of how long she might be here still. “I mean, great! That’s good. Gutsy, but good.”

I was thinking about her as I made my way up a hill on my walk. Thinking quietly, moving softly through the late afternoon in my pretty black flats.

“I’m going to catch you!” I heard and jumped, startled.

“Hey,” I greeted Ken after turning to see who was going to catch me. “What are you doing? You left a long time ago – I thought you were going running.”

“I am.” He nodded.

“This is called walking.” I offered with a smile and he rolled his eyes at me.

“I had to stop at the library, and now I’m going to my car. Then I’ll go home and run.”

“Oh.” I said, noticing that I was walking much faster to match his pace. Don’t pant, I chastised myself. Just walk and talk and pretend you’re in some semblance of health that allows you to walk at a brisk pace. I finally gave up.

“You can go ahead.” I said. “Walk faster if you’d like.”

“Nope.” He said easily, pausing to check traffic before he motioned me across the street before him. “I don’t have to be anywhere for anything. Are you in this section of the lot?”

“I’m over there.” I pointed, grateful that the light told us to pause before crossing. I wanted to catch my breath.

As we walked together, I asked if he was still planning to run. He nodded.

“Well then you do have to be somewhere for something.” I decided.

“Not really.” He replied. “I’ll change clothes and go out when I get there.”

“But it might be dark.” I protested, trying to check the position of the sun as it peeked through thick clouds.

“And?” He asked, grinning at me. I took a moment to admire him – he’s really quite cute and nice – and smiled in return.

“Nighttime is scary.” I said, attempting a serious expression.

“Nah. You just have to be scarier to other people than they are to you.”

“Are you scary?” I asked innocently.

“I can be.” He said confidently enough for me to believe him even as I was amused.

We parted ways near the back of the lot and I moved my car closer to the building while he headed home. My calves ached slightly from the quickened pace I’d adopted to walk with him and I winced as I tried to stretch them before putting the car in gear.

Returning to an empty office – hot enough to mimic the fires of hell, and the maintenance people must be Satan’s minions as they continue to ignore my pleas for less hot air – I settled in to do more work and a little whining as I prodded Friend to leave already so I could obtain food. And sleepy pants. And TV. I’m hungry/tired/ uncomfortable/bored. Being physically present when there’s nothing vital to do grates on me. But I can do it. If it helps her to be trapped on campus with no avenue of escape (as if I’d say anything other than “OK! Now?” if she asked me to take her home), then I can do that.

Anyway, I planned a meeting to introduce Maria to Dr. Icing. Then another so she could meet one of the other guys who does what Boss suggested she try. All the while, I was trying to calculate which route would get her though the dissertation work the fastest. Where she’d have less problems, face a shallower learning curve, get published more quickly.

I realized it wasn’t my problem. My way hasn’t been tremendously effective – the constant hurry of trying to get to the next project, place, job. I think I wanted to settle my career so that I could be completely ready to meet someone special. Become “mated” as Dr. Counselor is fond of saying. If I must be alone, then I’ll hurry and focus and try to get everything I can completed. Become as well rounded as time allows, but continue to make progress. Always moving forward.

The problem was that I got tired. I forgot why I was doing this in the crazed desire to keep pushing onward. And when the push earned my PhD, I had nothing left. And if you’ve read me for long enough, you’ll know that very little good can come from such a state.

I want a relationship. I’m envious of Maria’s husband and son, though I don’t begrudge her a happy family life. If it makes grad school a longer process, then good for her for defining her priorities from the beginning. All the distractions and professional successes aren’t going to make my personal needs less vivid. I want to be with someone. That’s OK. I can’t figure out a way – well, an effective way – to rush that process, so I’ll wait. Try to figure out when to slow down and wander, who’s worth a little hurrying so that I can share the journey with him/her, and when I can push because it’s important to do so.

(This would have been written better had I eaten and was in sleepy pants. Good blogging does not result when sitting at my desk, hungry and tired. So that’s my excuse for this evening. I appreciate your patience in this difficult time.)