enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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The march of the options.

Had another oppressive headache this afternoon (and sinus/nasal issues - eew, I know), so it seems that I'm really suffering with allergies at the moment. I took an allergy/sinus tablet a couple of hours ago and now I'm feeling quite lightheaded as a result. This is preferred to the headache.

Today was a relatively good day. Perhaps I always need a warm up into the week. :) I mean, I feel very rational about how things are going.

I need to keep the thinking channels open with respect to changing careers or moving abroad. Both are doable, if long-term.

The moving abroad on a posting with my job is a very real possibility, but since I've only been with the department for less than two years, I would have to say that the horizon for that would be 3-5 years from now. The earliest possible date would be about two years from now, contingent on my upcoming promotion.

I mean, I suppose that 3-5 years is not that far away. I should be very competitive for any posting at the end of that time, particularly if things continue going as they have done.

I mean, what I really need right at this EXACT moment is more of a specific goal that I can pursue, rather than a move. A move AND a goal would be great, but not realistic this year. Financially, I would need more time.

I still haven't contacted that professor at the local university about my unfinished thesis. It might be worth it, as a start, to initiate a discussion with her. The thing is that I want to tread carefully as I'm not 100% certain that committing to the stress of another Ph.D. program is what I want to do right now. I'd have to do it whilst working.

It's all good though. I remind myself - when I'm being sane - that I have so many options. Having options is great. Wonderful. It's not as though nothing is possible. Most of the time I stand in my own way more than anything else does.

And the man thing is a red herring, really, because it's going to be difficult for me to find someone who is good for me ANYWHERE. It's not just here that is bad, even if here is marginally worse. I'm picky!

I think my major fear in life is though that I'll never specialize, that I'll always remain a kind of generalist in the things that I love. I am already a kind of specialist in my current work, but it's not where I'd ideally like to invest the remainder of my life's blood. I just don't want to wait too long to decide.

But then again, what does "wait too long" mean? I don't think it's ever too late to pursue seriously something that you love, provided of course that you can still physically do the activity. I think I've been a bit stuck in other people's attitudes about what one can do and when. I need to stop thinking of 39 as anything but rather young.

So, all good. Except for the sinus thing.

Oh and the Marco thing. Marco emailed me today to ask me to send pictures of my life here. He's a funny man and a problem. I can't always stay with one foot in the door and one foot out. Or can I? Does it really matter? There's no one else on the horizon and likely won't be for a long while.

I don't know.

On the way home I stopped at the magazine store and on a whim bought a very cool set of sewing patterns. I'm thinking of sewing a crazy print skirt or dress this weekend. Of course, "crazy" by my standards means a floral jacquard sheath or something, worn with pearl earrings. But you'll forgive me for that, no? I seem to have gone to the Elizabeth II school of "crazy" dressing, which effectively means that I am turning into my paternal grandmother (who wore tailored silks and pumps and carried a neat handbag for her entire life). But then again, my paternal grandmother kind of went to the Juli@ Child school of cool, in that she was tall and stood out in a crowd. She soldered silver and gold and semi-precious stones that she had collected into her own jewellery, in her own basement. (Always amusing ot see grandma with a blowtorch.) She also took painting trips to places like Newfoundland and Hawaii and had proper shows of her paintings in Toronto. She was kind of troubled, to be honest - snotty and stiff (I suppose you'd get brittle after losing two children - one in infancy and one in adulthood, and if you had a jerk of a husband) - but she certainly had a backbone and a strong sense of her own intellect and capabilities. She always made toast very, very thin, and she was a terrible cook. Everything seemed meagre with her.

I preferred my other grandmother, who had massive breasts and a big hug and who slathered everything in cream! She had been beautiful in her youth - like a pinup girl, with an hourglass figure and raven hair, for whom my grandfather had pined when overseas during the war - but her looks had faded quickly in her 30s and 40s. I suppose four children and a silent husband will do that to you. Both of my grandmothers were too clever to have been happy left at home, I think. Their unhappiness manifested in different ways.

Hope you are well.

May come back later if I think of something worth writing! I do wish I could write some of the things that I think and do at work. There's quite a bit of funny stuff. Alas, I am under oath and am discreet, in any event.

XO

6:46 p.m. - 2009-09-09

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