What’s worse than living a post-doc life?

Living a post-doc life and maintaining a long-distance relationship. Sciencey to the square, because the long-distanceness is further complicated by the academic two-body problem. I.e. that makes it so much harder to solve it – you cannot “just get a job” in the city of choice.

And so I am one of the dots in the scatterplot, my life makes a tiny contribution to the statistics, to all those articles that come around, about people like me, people like us. I feel kind of proud: how cool, a couple of scientists. And I feel kind of scared: that one day I’ll stop being it.

Every Friday I am at the top of my career, feeling strong and independent, and driven, and motivated, and controlling all the 100 strings that I need to balance to keep my projects going and everything working. Every Monday morning, or Sunday afternoon on a train, or Sunday evening alone, I just want a home. No, I don’t want a family, children are still in the “scary” department. But I want… a home.

This is currently the see-saw of my life, the not-so-subtle weekly swings of moods, needs and priorities.

Hopefully one day they’ll merge and balance themselves out into just one, relatively happy and fullfilled life.

Conclusions? No conclusions. Just an observation at the end of the day: when in long distance relationship, one takes very personally all disturbances in public transport. It’s like they try to sabotage you and you only, isn’t it? Yes it is.

And now, tomorrow’s Tuesday, I’ll be getting slowly back into the career and work mode, building up my resources and my motivation; tomorrow’s Tuesday and again, it’ll all be about science, anyways.


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