A Geeky Pop-Culture Update

I had great plans for this week. I was finally going to take a week off work, sleep in (younger kids’ last week at camp) and take daily walks, take care of some long-standing errands, and recuperate after an exhausting summer, in order to be refreshed before going into what promises to be a very busy school year.

How silly of me to make plans! I came back from a trip Friday night to a feverish Smurf. He’s still ill with what appears to be a benign but highly uncomfortable primary infection with the virus that is exceedingly common and gives people cold sores. He’s feverish and has mouth sores, so he hasn’t eaten much in four days. So I have spent the last 4 days and likely will the next week or so (these mouth sores take 7-14 days to heal, poor baby) with a whimpering Smurf lying across me, both of us watching movies pretty much all day. Do not ask how many times I have seen Kung Fu Panda 3 (which is pretty great, btw, on par with the first one; I don’t even remember the second one). Also, all Lego short movies on Netflix are hilarious. I recommend Lego Ninjago and Lego Marvel Super Heroes (gotta love the angsty Spiderman).

I also got sick myself after the mad push to a deadline along with travel last week, so all the cartoon watching with an adorable albeit sick Smurf has been a really welcome forced vacation. Even if I wanted to cheat on myself and my vacation plans (which, let’s face it, I totally would, because the new-semester barrage of emails has already started), now I can’t, and I am actually somewhat relaxed. Since Smurf and I are at home, Middle Boy invents reasons to stay home from camp, as well… So basically we are all home (except DH), which is nice. Smurf and I are semi-quarantined, which means no touching the rest of the family and I wash hands like crazy when I invariably have to do stuff for them.

But, onto nicer things! I have been wanting to post about some fun pop culture for a while, and finally I have a bit of time!

Two books I recently read and enjoyed:

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, by Becky Chambers. Oh, how I enjoyed this book! It was a page-turner and left me with such a lovely high after I was done! I cannot wait for another adventure in the same universe (coming this fall — squeee!) It was really nicely written, very unassuming, fluid, clear. The beauty of the writing reminded me of another favorite, The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August… Whose author Claire North, incidentally, wrote a blurb that IMHO perfectly encapsulates the book:

“… [I]t is joyously written and a joy to read.


Then I picked up an oldie, The Dispossessed, by Ursula Le Guin. I have read some of her books in my native tongue, but this was the first novel of hers that I have read in English. While I have always enjoyed her writing, I admit that I was surprised to see some spots where the turn of phrase was really jarring. Anyway, this was a beautiful story about belonging, what it means to be at home, and what it is that one really needs to be fulfilled. The book, published in 1974, is also (and some would say primarily) a political study of anarchism (akin to libertarian socialism) versus capitalism on sister planets Anarres and Urras, how any political system is open to abuse and corruption, and what it means to be really free. This book belongs to the Hainish Cycle.  (The book’s Wiki page is quite exhaustive.)


I am also disappointed in my nerdy brethren because they have been giving perfectly good movies bad rep all summer long. I am here to tell you to go see the blockbusters; they are meant to be fun and they do deliver, and they do it better than most summer offerings. Enjoy them and don’t believe all the negative reviews.

Warcraft. I don’t play the game. I live with a diehard World of Warcraft player (DH) and a son who occasionally plays. I also don’t particularly care for fantasy as a genre and I didn’t know the story behind WoW (a.k.a. “the lore”). But now I sort of do. As a standalone movie it was well done. The Orcs were great, the story was compelling, the movie was not too long (I will never get back all the many, many hours wasted on freakin’ Hobbit; it takes longer to see all the movies  than it does to read the goddamn 330-page book). But Warcraft is good, visually pleasing, and fun, and what makes it even better in my mind is that it doesn’t take itself to seriously.


Star Trek Beyond. I loved it! I loved it about as much as I loved the first one in the new series,  Star Trek (2009), which is a lot. I am willing to go see it again. An awesome new space station, new alien species, fun banter between Scotty and an important alien female character (although annoying that Scotty keeps calling her “lassie”), also exchanges between Doc McCoy and Spock, excellent employment of Beastie Boys’ “Sabotage” and the associated joke, Idris Elba as the villain– what’s not to like?



Ghostbusters. It’s pretty funny! Not the funniest thing I have seen in ages, and a few parts drag on (Melissa McCarthy and Kristen Wiig are serious-ish characters and have been underutilized, IMHO), and the villain is not particularly cool. But Kate McKinnon as the crazy gadget nerd is absolutely hilarious, as is Chris Hemsworth as dumber-than-a-rock eye-candy receptionist. Leslie Jones has some of the absolutely best lines in the whole movie. And all of the old Ghostbusters make cameos, which was really cool.



Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice. There is nothing wrong with this movie. Perhaps surprisingly, Ben Affleck is actually an excellent choice for Batman in this context. I read all the awful reviews and I have no idea what it is that they saw. Watch it, the movie is cool. I am also looking forward to seeing Suicide Squad and later Superwoman, as I think DC movies have been undeservedly getting bad press.




Among the TV shows, DH and I are enjoying Killjoys and Dark Matter and looking forward to the return of The Expanse and Orphan Black.

Also, among Earth-bound shows, we enjoy Suits, and I would like to enjoy Stranger Things (it’s really cool) if I weren’t so much of a wimp, because it’s really scary so I can’t sleep.

Dearest, geekiest blogosphere, which books, movies, or shows have you been enjoying this summer? 


The most obnoxious comment I have seen in a long time showed up in a review of a proposal for someone’s young investigator award. A colleague from a highfalutin institution (whose name shares 2/3 of its characters with the agency that James Bond works for) has written not once but twice in the same report that the candidate did well while in grad school and postdoc, but as independent faculty not so much. I am very glad the colleague pointed that out, because the applicant could have fooled me, with all the papers published and major grants received since becoming a tenure-track faculty member. The colleague also wrote (I can’t believe this) that the applicant is at a university that is “not very reknown [sic] as a major research institution” so “it may be challenging to recruit strong postdocs.” Way to rub it in and remind the applicant that they are no James Bond! We wouldn’t want them to get a big head!  As if the applicant doesn’t already know, and much better than the reviewer, how hard it is to get good people at places that are “not very reknown” and is still able to do what seems to me like really cool work.

Repeat after me: There are excellent people at every school. There are excellent people at every school. There are excellent people at every school. Do not assume someone is feeble-minded or needs you to explain their situation to them because the US News and World Report doesn’t rank their school as having one of the top 5 grad programs.

Question from Reader: Junior Female Faculty as Supervisor of Similar-Age Male Trainees

A long-time reader (LTR), who just finished her second year on the tenure track in a STEM field at a major research institution, wrote to me, asking:

I would love to see a post on mentoring male postdocs, or more generally male trainees who aren’t much younger than you, as a starting professor. 

How do you convince them you have the same authority as their male PhD advisors? That you mean what you say, and that your requests aren’t suggestions? I notice the male faculty have no problem giving their new postdocs verbal advice or tasks and having it followed, but I’ve had two disasters already where postdocs refused to do any work and covered it up.”

“How do you determine if male postdocs will be respectful ahead of time and maintain productivity? Is there away to get around natural authority issues? I’ve lost quite a lot of start-up money already and there aren’t any tenured women in my department to ask.”

She has a postdoc who is a little over a year out of a PhD with her same-age, longtime male collaborator. The postdoc has not been making any progress on any of the postdoc projects and has been requesting a lot of vacation time. To compensate for poor progress on postdoc projects, he has been promising drafts of collaborative work done during PhD, but, when pushed and given specific deadlines, revealed that these drafts were nowhere near submission and in fact not based on publication-quality data. It also turns out he has been bypassing LTR completely and instead communicating with his PhD advisor alone about these drafts (while on LTR’s dime, of course).

My initial reaction was to cut losses and let him go as soon as possible, at which point LTR revealed that she worried about how it would look, since she had very bad luck with her first postdoc, whom she had to fire only a couple of months in, after he had committed expense-account fraud. She now worries that she will be viewed as a poor postdoc advisor, hard to please, or otherwise unreasonable. I completely understand how she feels, and I wish I could guarantee that she won’t be judged by her department colleagues the way she fears she will. I also know that a male junior professor in her shoes would not have the same fear, because men are not constantly in danger of being perceived as unreasonable, especially not when they display assertiveness or even anger. On the upside, once it’s tenure time, what will count most is papers and grants, and if her record is strong, nobody will care very much about early advising issues. But she has to do as much as she can with the startup he has left, which means she cannot afford to waste it on people who are not productive.

First, I think LTR got royally screwed by her longtime male collaborator, who was the postdoc’s PhD advisor. While it may be possible that sexism on the postdoc’s part plays a role, my reading is that this individual was always problematic — deceitful and lazy; there is no way this postdoc was an excellent graduate student. I asked LTR and she revealed that the PhD advisor was cagey when pressed on the issue by phone, and it turned out that the postdoc wouldn’t write his own papers even as a grad student. Dumping what you know is going to be a problematic postdoc (because he was a problematic grad student) on your longtime collaborator is extremely uncollegial; it is a completely douche move. You don’t do that to any colleague, and especially not to a collaborator, and worse yet a junior faculty member whose career can be completely derailed by poor initial hires. The first action item would be to put LTR’s male collaborator on the “selfish and untrustworthy” list. Sadly, I have met a number of rising stars or rising-star wannabes who are extremely self-serving; this fellow appears to be one of them. Maybe it’s not optimal to sever the collaboration right now, but I would definitely not consider him among the people who have my back. And would likely never again hire anyone else from his group.

Second, what to do with the postdoc who has nearly a year left on his contract?

The short answer is: a) Read the contract in great detail, as it will specify what you are able to do, and b) document all future interactions. Namely, when your subordinate, whom you are supposed to mentor and whose career you are supposed to help and nurture, behaves as a douche towards you, doesn’t do the work, and treats the position with you as an entitlement, the subordinate loses the benefits of advising and gets reduced to an employee, whose duties (and repercussions for shirking them) are spelled out in the contract.

Option 1) Sever ties as soon as possible. Many male colleagues would do just that. Look into the contract, see what it says you can do, what the cause is with which you can terminate. Usually these have some clauses for inadequate performance and some lead time before severance. Generally, you would have to have a written trail, which means dates by which something has to be done, then if not done a deadline for improvement with termination following if not improved, finally followed by termination.

Option 2) Ride out the contract, while attempting to get as much work out of this person as possible, with as little emotional involvement on your part. Considering that LTR is worried that firing a postdoc would look bad, I would advise this option, while getting all business with this individual. First, set very firm boundaries and deadlines for him, with repercussions in writing (email is fine) in terms of gradual salary reduction if possible for not meeting them, or losing vacation time, or even severance. No more “mister nice LTR.”

Both options require a paper trail, firm deadlines with specific tasks, and documented repercussions. They differ in whether you want to terminate or you want to hurt first (reduce earnings) to get some work out rather than terminate right away.

I know this sounds very cruel, but as I say, “This is not a game, we are not playing science. We are doing science professionally.” There is actual money and time involved.

I wish I could say that I no longer have issues with disrespectful trainees. They don’t happen as much as they did when I was younger, but they do happen. People see that you are nice and friendly, and mistake it for weakness and perhaps stupidity. Then when you get all Robocop on them, they are taken by surprise. But, as a wise woman once said, “Better a bitch than a doormat.” Of course, “bitch” here means just being assertive, i.e., a behavior that would not raise any eyebrows if exhibited by a man.

What is different once you are senior, and what LTR will get better at with experience, is: a) identifying group members who are a good fit, b) being able to swiftly act to remedy a problematic situation because you have encountered a similar situation before (good news — trouble comes in a finite number of flavors), c) being a better mentor and being able to get useful work from people who are less than ideally motivated, d) not being pressed for time like on the tenure track and thus having more breathing room.

Is there any way to predict who’s going to work out as postdoc? Ideally you know the person while they are a grad student, have heard them give talks, and they come from a trusted colleague. But unless I am confident the postdoc would be a good one, I find it’s better to rely on graduate students, because after 2-3 years a grad student I have trained is better at the work we do than a random postdoc. While having a great postdoc is a blessing for the group, hiring a postdoc is risky in general — if the match is bad, the postdoc’s career can be ruined for good, and they are not cheap. I know biomedical fields rely on postdocs, but in many physical sciences it is not necessary to have a postdoc in the group once you have an established pipeline with some senior grad students. I have always been much more comfortable with this approach.

How do you ensure someone is respectful? That’s tough. You can’t make someone be respectful — they either are or they aren’t. I have had many respectful male group members; I don’t write about them on the blog often, because they don’t give me headaches. Perhaps surprisingly, some of the most respectful and easy-to-work-with students have come from the countries that are very patriarchal. For instance, I have had several students who are more or less moderate Muslims from the Middle East; they have had excellent technical skills and have been nice to work with. I have also worked quite well with folks from different parts of Asia (some religious, some not). In my experience, the most difficult young men that I have worked with have been from the US and some parts of Western Europe. These guys have exceedingly high opinions of themselves, their knowledge and abilities. Often, they are indeed excellent and some of the conceit is warranted, but I am not going to kiss their a$$; they may be capable, but they are not omniscient and they are sometimes (often?) wrong; also, I am the boss and that point seems to need emphasizing quite bluntly for some of them. Often, it is enough to say something along the lines of, “It seems you think you don’t have anything to learn from me and my group, and don’t seem to respect me as your advisor. You are free to leave and join a group where you feel you can learn something, I am not stopping you. Take a few days to think if you want to leave the group. If you decide that want to stay, things will have to be considerably different. We will talk again on [a specific day].” That’s generally been enough to shake people up.

Ideally, we all like each other and do science together. The trainees don’t have to like me, but should ideally not hate me, because if you hate your advisor, you should really find another one. What’s not negotiable is that we should all act professionally, do our jobs, and respect each other. Me being nice and accommodating is a privilege, not an entitlement. After all, I control the money, and there is a reason why I am in this position; those who think I don’t have anything to teach them or who think I am not worthy of their respect are certainly not entitled to my time or funds. There are other people who can do their job. There are plenty of smart people in the world.

Robocop out.

LTR, best of luck!

Blogosphere, please share your thoughts in the comments.

Professorial Vignettes

Breaking news: Professors procrastinate!

There is a book chapter that I need to work on. I really don’t want to, but it’s one of those things that you do because you promised, and you promised because you want to do a favor to the person who asked, but in reality it’s a lot of work, it’s boring work, it has a deadline right when you have family visiting, and it has a very low impact-to-effort ratio.

On the upside, I suppose I know a lot of people, and I do favors for a lot of nice colleagues. On the downside, it’s still fuckin’ boring and I don’t really want to do it.

The first draft is not great. The student who wrote it is smart and competent, but far from producing wonderful first drafts, partly owing to poor command of the language. The deadline is in three days, and I have a ridiculous amount of work to still do on it.

I really, really don’t want to do the work. Obviously, I MUST blog. NOW.


That proposal that ticked me off a week or so ago.

The most infuriating comment that I got, which I sometimes/often do, is that the reviewer doesn’t believe that I can do what I say I can do, despite preliminary data and/or published papers demonstrating that I know how to use the technique, and clear pointers to these markers of my expertise under “Technical Approaches.” The critique is basically along the lines of — these are great, awesome ideas, and you are attacking this problem from several different directions. But I cannot believe that you are actually qualified to attack from all these different directions with all these different techniques, because most people use just one or two techniques. You cannot possibly be able to use all of them. I am unconvinced that you are an expert in all of them (I am), and it would be much better if you got yourself a really strong postdoc or better yet a collaborator to make sure you can use this very complicated technique (that’s not all that complicated, but I bet is the technique the reviewer is most familiar with).

So I need a freakin’ chaperone. I need to find a collaborator who does one of the techniques that the referee doesn’t believe I can do, and I likely have to give that person money (a subaward) to join the proposal and do the work that I know can be done in my group.

This is bias, and my gender is part of it. I have papers, I have preliminary data, I have a great proposal, and all the referees say that the questions posed are very exciting and important. But one doesn’t believe I can possibly know how to do all that I say I will do.

Sometimes I see this type of comment when reading reviews for a centers grant that I have been on for years. Sometimes people tell us that our ideas are literally too big for us, that if those same ideas came from MIT or a place like that they would be fine, but they don’t believe that here, at a state university, we have the chops to execute our vision.

Which reminds me of…


… A Young Whippersnapper with a great pedigree lamenting how everyone here seems defeated. How people are tempering their expectations, how people don’t believe that they are worthy of top students, or top journals, or top recognition. And how this affects our science, and how it is a disservice to our students because it instills in them that they are unworthy, too.

He is right. He is also wrong.

When you have been brought up in the creme-de-la-creme of academic environments, you see greatness, you are part of greatness, and you expect greatness of yourself and for yourself. It’s like being inoculated at academic birth against the curse of impostor syndrome.  (Being a dude helps. It seems that the vaccine is particularly effective in dudes, especially when surrounded by other dudes.)

But there are some real (i.e., not imagined) limits to achievement here. There are students who pass up this place for more highly ranked ones. There are faculty candidates that refuse our offer to go elsewhere. There are undergrads who work here, are happy to have your help in getting an NSF Grad Research Fellowship but then take that money with them to a better-ranked school. There are papers that don’t get accepted to the top journals from here. There are grants that you don’t get because reviewers don’t actually believe you can do on your own the things you say you want to do, as it’s just too cool for you.

It leaves a mark. I don’t know what happens to Young Whippersnappers after a decade or two here. Maybe their inoculation never expires, and they never stop believing that greatness and accolades and the highest of achievements are their academic birthright, because they are so damn awesome. Maybe they are indeed awesomer than the rest of us.

But I didn’t train in a top-echelon environment like the Young Whippersnapper did. There was definitely a level of journal where my well-known and well-respected advisor still thought it was a great achievement to publish. I too have journals where I think I am a shoo-in, but there are definitely others after which  I think I can go only rarely and only when I have really good stuff. In contrast, I know colleagues who think every turd-nugget they produce is gold, and shoot for the moon with every single submission. Ah, Dunning-Kruger, where are you when I need you?

The Young Whippersnapper thinks that the likes of me make students doubt themselves, so the students never rise to their full, partly megalomaniacal potential. He may have a point. You have to believe you are awesome to go for the big rewards.

I don’t know how I can teach that to my students when I don’t believe it myself. I think that being able to eat comes first, then lofty goals, such as publishing in N@!ure. My students are smart, very smart; some are extraordinarily smart. But, as I often tell them, this is not MIT and I am not famous. My name does not magically open doors. (Well, it opens some, a fair number it seems, but there’s no magic there and not all of them are the doors to the Kingdom of Awesomeness). I can promise them we will do good, rigorous science, we will write good and interesting papers, I will teach them how to write, present, review, and generally do everything that a professional scientist has to do, I will give them opportunities to network and develop skills beyond their major so they can increase employability… I will basically help them get ready for Plan A, whatever their Plan A is, but also for Plan B, so they can actually get a well-paying job if Plan A falls through.

But pragmatism, being ready to fail, is the antithesis of greatness! You must never suspect you could ever possibly fail!

I think that type of self-delusion is not accessible to (most) women in science. I have been smacked down so often and so hard when I have tried to do work that is too cool, or submit it to journals “above my station,” that I would be really, really stupid if I didn’t learn to correct my course for how people perceive me.

Rule #1. Published in a lower-tier journal is better than unpublished (or delayed due to battle with referees for months or years). Because once you are published, people can read the work, and cite it, and build upon it.

Rule #2. Funded is better than not funded. Even if you have to tack on a collaborator that you don’t necessarily need to do the work, just so you can placate the biased reviewer and show that you understand and accept the account of your own incapability, and have brought a real expert on board. Because once you are funded, you can actually do the work, and bring your really cool ideas to the light of day.

Maybe we should give all the faculty posts everywhere to pedigreed Young Whippersnappers. Oh, wait. We already do.
Never mind.


I keep telling myself that grants are not a measure of a scientist. Grants are a means to do science.

It would take some serious delusion to believe this in my college, where perceived merit strongly correlated with funding.


What replenishes your scientific well? Especially when all you have been doing is putting yourself out there (grants and papers) with zeal, but fatigue and constant criticism are wearing you down?


I need a serious vacation. After a student graduates, and mom leaves, and another paper goes in, and I spend a few days working non-stop in Washington, DC, I will take a week, maybe two, to just stay at home and watch Netflix.

Which brings us to this classic, which is yet again oh-so-appropriate:


Now is the summer of our discontent


When I first moved here with Eldest in 2004, he was 4. We rented an apartment for a couple of years, and Eldest started going to the local public school. We bought a house near the end of his Kindergarten; the house is in the neighborhood associated with another elementary school, but is still geographically closer to the school Eldest was already attending, and it is on our way to work. Technically, we had to request that Eldest be formally transferred to the school he was already in, because once we moved, he was no longer automatically allowed to go there.

Years later, when Middle Boy was about to start Kindergarten, we requested transfer to place him in the same elementary school that Eldest had attended. With a 7-year age difference, Eldest was already in middle school, but him having attended our target elementary school was enough of a justification to grant Middle Boy transfer without a glitch, and we knew in May where he’d be going in the fall.

Now Smurf is supposed to start Kindergarten in the fall. We requested transfer for Smurf to place him in the same school as Middle Boy, a rising 4th grader. The rationale for transfer is stronger than before — we have another kid who is currently enrolled. Yet, the transfer was denied in May and Smurf was placed on a waiting list. I will know on August 26th (note: 5 freakin’ days before the school starts) if we will have to deal with the ridiculous situation of having two elementary-school children in two different elementary schools. And don’t even get me started on the fact that the afterschool program requires all paperwork to be processed more than 2 weeks before school starts; at their recommendation, I now have Smurf enrolled in afterschool programs at both schools, and as soon as I know where he’ll end up enrolling, I am supposed to drop one spot.

I have spent the whole summer trying to get someone to help with this issue. I have sent numerous emails and have spoken with several people on the phone, but no dice. Apparently, they did not grant transfer to that school to any Kindergartners, and there are half a dozen (last I checked) who, like us, already have a sibling attending. Why? Because they have projected just enough kids for 3 classes and they don’t want to start a 4th classrooms unless they have to; either another 10 kids or so request transfer into the school and a new classroom opens up, or enough kids move out of the neighborhood to let mine and some of the other waitlisted kids in there.

This issue has been causing me anguish for months.


DH had been coughing for over a month. At some point, he went to a doctor, got a chest X-ray and some antibiotics. After our formerly great insurance kicked in, he still has to pay over a $140 for that one visit + X-rays. We used to have no copay at all when I first started. Then it was some co-insurance. Now it’s copay plus deductibles. That’s what happens when you have state government that doesn’t give half a $hit for the state university.

I have been jokingly (or not so jokingly) saying I want to move to Australia.  How’s Perth? It seems to be really far from everything, which may be what I need right now.

Too Much Togetherness

Once you’ve become a mom, whenever you try to say that you are tired or overwhelmed by the demands of your kids, someone will rush to inform you, “Be grateful and enjoy it! One day they will be all grown up, and you will wish for this time to be back!”

I am sure I will wish my kids were small once they are all grown-up and gone, but I hate this implication that I must crave to be all but glued to them, cheerfully catering to their every need 24/7, for decades; that any desire on my part for bodily autonomy or sleep should be greeted with reproach, because it is a grave sin to enjoy any less than 100% of all the moments that my kids are young and living in my house.

As cute as they are and as completely as I adore them, I am an introvert. I need the time where I am completely alone and where nobody, no matter how cute, wants things from me, even if all they want is to nuzzle their adorable little faces against my neck.

As magical, precious, and elusive as the childhoods of my kids are, I cannot be in there with them non-stop, even if we were to forget (as grownups often do) that kids are people and don’t necessarily want a parent perpetually hovering either.  Perhaps humans are only ever meant to be exposed to a certain amount of cuteness in a lifetime, and my need for alone time keeps me from exploding. There is such a thing as too much preciousness.


My mom has been here a little over three weeks, and it’s been going well. She’s been nice and unobtrusive, and I feel like I should be spending as much time as I can with her, because who knows when I will get to see her again. The exposure to an aging parent is quite sad, and I must admit that I am on some level grateful to be away and not have to witness the decline. My mom is still quite healthy and vital, so I hope she’ll still be around for many years. But the truth is, her future now feels finite, rather than being so just on an intellectual level.

It’s all the more reason to want to spend every moment of her visit together, right? Except that it’s really hard. There is such a thing as too much togetherness. She and I were out of town last week with Middle Boy and Smurf, and while it was fun, I was completely spent by the time we came back. I was in a really foul mood and would have killed for some free time.  I desperately needed to go to work yesterday, where I could finally be alone and in peace. This introvert felt much better by the afternoon, as it was time to pick up the kids. Man, I love my office. I have the best office.

House guests are hard. Long-term house guests are even harder, because you can’t or won’t put your life on hold for very long. I can take time off work for a few days or a week, and I can put up with another person in my space for that long, but this protracted perturbation is really taxing. I feel guilty over wanting to avoid her, because I just cannot interact that much, yet I know that she won’t be around forever, in my house or on the blue ball that’s on an elliptical orbit around the Sun. Having a limited time together puts a lot of pressure to make all the moments count, to make them all special… But I don’t think it’s possible to have a continuum of special moments.

The best I can do is take some more time off work, talk to her for a few hours or take her out shopping, then run and hide in my home-office cave to recuperate. And maybe blog.