Diary 1: April 27, 2018
Started to wake up a little early from dreams about writing this journal, but ended up sleeping in.
My wife gets up at 7:30, and usually I do, too. I wake up for the first time with Little Cat by my head. (Apparently I’m going to use my cat’s nicknames in this and not their real names.) Part of the usual routine happens: get up, pee, feed the cats, go back to sleep while my wife showers.
The second time I wake up Buddy (the large black cat) is by my head. I’ve got a sinus headache. My wife comes back to bed for cuddles after her shower, and when she gets back up, I ask her to bring me an Advil and get her own breakfast, “if that’s okay?” She scolds me for the “if that’s okay,” because she’s trying to get me to just ask for what I need. She’s been working on that one awhile. I take my regular pills with the Advil and notice that I missed yesterday’s morning pills. I seemed to do okay, though. Didn’t notice yesterday. Wonder if it will affect me today at all. I doze off and on while she gets ready, then sleep until 9, when I start dreaming about showering, and getting ready.
Now all three cats are on the bed. I pull out the journal I set by my bed to write this, and Buddy curls up at the top of it. I’m thinking about a shower, but I head for my phone instead. We keep the chargers by the front door now, to curb our random phone use. I check personal email, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. All just a quick look. I’m too sleepy. Little cat works her way under the curtain into the open window. It’s nice, but is this why I have a sinus headache?
Contacts. Shower. Throw on jeans and a t-shirt—I’ll dress up for work later. Pour coffee and grab muffins—these healthier ones my wife made that are fine but taste healthier. Sit down at the computer. I’m a little sad I didn’t get up to eat with her. I didn’t feel that bad. The headache is going away now.
I start the timer on my new productivity app: Kanban Flow and check my email. Buddy scratches at the side of my chair, and I pull him onto my lap because he’s 16 lbs of spoiled cat. “Bad Budget News” is the first email I see. It’s not too bad, but apparently when I give awards they tax them at 52%. WTF. Who can afford to give awards? I’m glad I only gave one. Several years ago we were handing out more. I finish my email. There are muffin crumbs on the cat.
I check on flight prices for my vacation. I still can’t decide how to get from Point A to Point B. Then, I start working on a few things for my research. I look up the pseudonym for the participant I’m going to talk to later today. Yesterday, I was pondering this diary and if I should use pseudonyms. I thought—one of the things I’ve seen in the ones I read is that people are referred to as roles—wife, mother, etc. Does this essentialize them? Reduce them to the roles? So, I thought about using pseudonyms for everyone. But then I thought, but this project is about similarities in daily life. So, really it is the roles that connect us. I read the others and I see “wife” or “husband” and I think about my life, my wife. So, maybe that’s okay. I decide to just use the nicknames for the cats. There are three after all.
Filled out travel form for a research trip I’m doing in May. I wonder how much of our life is spent in filling out forms. Wish my cousin-in-law a happy birthday on Facebook. Twitter headline from Inside Higher Ed. Apparently, not requiring the SAT/ACT leads to more diverse applicants without a decline in graduation rates. Shocker. Doubt that will change anything, though. Skim the article. Retweet. Back to piddling with the research and then around the house. I usually clean Friday afternoons, but I won’t have time today, so I’m just taking care of little things.
Time to call my research participant. Great, the Siamese cat is having one of his run around the house meowing at the top of his lungs moments. Well, research participant didn’t answer. This has happened before. He tends to forget. Not so bad, as now we missed having the Muncie 11 am Friday siren on the phone call. Will try back in a few. Nope. One more time. No answer. Wrote an email to reschedule. Blargh. Now what?
Got to pack for our trip to DC this weekend. This turns into switching out the under-the-bed summer clothes and putting away the winter sweaters. Finally! But it’s a little depressing looking at the size of some of these summer clothes and wonder what will still fit. Some go straight to the Goodwill pile. Others wait to be tried on. I’m doing laundry, so I pause in the packing process to work on planning some social events.
Got an email from research participant just after noon saying he’s available. So, I debate for a minute if I have time to call, and I do. Have an interesting chat, as always. It’s hardly a formal interview after 2 years of working together. It’s good but the whole thing sets me behind. I have to call my parents at 1.
To explain—my parents are not the spontaneous type. There’s never picking up the phone to chat. It has to be scheduled, and it has to be met. I got really mad about this a few months ago. I’d been hoping that would change, and it seems sometimes like just another meeting for my agenda not like a personal connection. Eventually I realized that this is just how they operate (I mean, I knew that, but still). Guess you have to meet people on their own terms sometimes. So, finish with research participant, put in my ear piece and chat with my parents while I finish packing. They don’t talk long. We’ve been talking about getting together for lunch next week, but they say the weather might be bad. I’m confused at first, but then I remember we have different definitions of bad. So, we’ll see. Don’t worry. We have two back up dates. Also, my uncle is the hospital but doesn’t seem serious.
Finally, I get some lunch. I heat up the leftover frittata. It tastes better the second time. And then a poached pear that is magnificent. So juicy and sweet. It’s seriously amazing, but of course, my brain tells me first that I want cookies or ice cream. And now I’m running late for my 2 pm meeting, and the laundry I put in this morning still isn’t dry. I put on a dress and makeup—which I stupidly had already packed and at least make it to the 2 pm bus with an apology email sent off to my 2 pm.
The bus seems to take forever because I’m in a hurry. There’s another bus stopped and broken down in my pull off, so it takes an extra few minutes to get off the bus. Finally at work at 2:15 where I meet for just a few minutes with a TA who has a case of plagiarism with a student.
Spent the next hour and a half doing various work tasks. Found out some change in procedure that I never heard about might cost a student some money, so that always makes me unhappy. And another textbook related policy that also screws students over financially. Ah, bureaucracy. Thankfully two emails mostly fixed both issues.
Time for the department awards. I give a key and cat sitting instructions to a friend beforehand. I’m antsy through the awards, knowing I have to get on the road to DC.
We’re going to meet my niece. I think about the fact that she’s just my niece, and I’m just her aunt. You don’t say niece-in-law. That’s kind of nice, since I’ll never have a niece on my side. Babies are a little scary. She’s three weeks old, and this will be our first time meeting her.
Thankfully, I rush out of the awards just in time to catch a bus. I left before the last people were even off stage, snag a cookie, then remember you can’t eat on the bus, and shove it down while walking. I make it home and finish getting ready.
We finally hit the road about 6 pm. Driving 35 & 70 out of IN is fine. We give my wife’s parents a call on the way because they want to talk to us about an opportunity. It seems the cabin next to the cabin by the lake in Maine that they own is up for sale and they’re thinking about buying it. We’re not sure. There’s only two of us. So, if we’re looking long term, we don’t need two cabins. Guess it all depends on the rest of the family.
We stop in OH at a Wendy’s for dinner. We don’t eat fast food a lot. The service is slow, and I think about how most of the people here have a completely different daily life than mine. The couple in front of me has four kids, probably all under 8. There’s lots of nuggets on their tray. After Wendy’s, we grab gas and get back on the highway.
It’s 70 all the way to Wheeling, WV where we stop. Sometimes on the road I think about a story that an older friend I had in college told me about a trip. He said he took a trip with his best friend all the way across South Dakota. Something like 8 hours. And he said they didn’t say a word. He said they’d fart and roll down the windows, but never even say anything. He said to him that was a testament to how strong their friendship was that they could sit for hours and never feel the need to say anything. I don’t know why that story has stuck in my head, except that I still don’t get it. I mean, I understand the message of friendship transcending social niceties. But I’d be bored out of my mind on that trip.
Thankfully, my wife reads Harry Potter to me, and we chat and reach our destination without another stop at about 11 pm. Time to read a bit and go to sleep and then start out early to go the rest of the way to meet our the little one.