Summer I get manic. I don’t eat; I don’t sleep; I talk incessantly; I have crazy ideas, and generally and sometimes literally run around in circles. This week though, I have finally been able to feel like I have a purpose in life. I am in the field, working on the project that I’m getting no data from. But it’s good. I get up early, I eat whatever I want without feeling guilty, I carry lots of heavy stuff, dig around in the bush and get dirty, then carry lots more heavy stuff out again. What can I say. It gives me something other than my pathetic existence to focus on for a while. And while I am here, I can ask myself the seemingly never tiring question of ‘how did I get here?’
I, of course, mean physically (geographically) as well as mentally. I am constantly amazed at where my life takes me and the array of highly contrasting experiences I have. I have a crazy life.
Awhile back I went on a trip to a conference with some lab-mates. We drove for hours upon hours. We told our life stories to each other. I skipped over most parts and just gave the highlights, but I realise that I’ve lead a very different life from most people (in academia anyway). Under-stated though, I think. But only because it’s complicated, and I don’t like to discuss too much of it. It's definitely an accumulation of events that have lead to this kind of crazy. I think the others in the car were a little reflective after that. I was told my story was “balls to the wall”. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it sounds painful.
