We had a couple of days of pure sloth. It is such comforting to take off a random day of the week from work, stay in and mosey around. And it is more comforting to do it again the next day. I shamelessly feigned injury and a physio appoinrment (both half truths) and skipped meetings and classes. Ah! The privileges of graduate school life. I told HG that it will stop when I get the big job.
What is the big job? It's the job after the PhD, of course. In my head, it's blown up a bit beyond proportion. The be-all and end-all culmination of 11 years of academic training. Some part of me knows that it's only the beginning. True research happens when you are alone, with no advisor to go check with. Alone in the dark alleys of the unknown where everything could fit if you squint your eye but you know it's not even close to the truth. I heard a very simple, torn-down definition of research the other day from a stats prof. It's when you face something you have never seen before - and you start first by not being scared. You trust your skills and your intuition and begin.
Anyway, where was I?
Yeah it was Constable's birthday. And HG cooked us an excellent yummy dinner with a beef slow cooked to perfection, kappa, fish curry, rice and paratha. Did I forget to mention gulab jamun? Evening one we drank at home. Evening two we drank outside. I do feel for HG, trying to get along with a few borrrowed friends, all the while missing her real ones. Whenever, Constable's wife was telling us about her Girls Night out parties, HG feels twangs of loneliness.
We do find ways to have fun though. Our latest is a series of balancing bottle acts.
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