last day at work before the wedding

It’s my last day at work before I depart for the wedding. Notice I wrote “at work” and not “working,” because I’m not actually doing that so much lately. Oh well. Good thing my boss is at a conference overseas, and I doubt anybody will “tell” on me once I get back because they’re all slacking too!

In essence, my office has become the place where I drop my bag while I run to an appointment (e.g., shrink for med management), or while I’m on the way to purchase something else we need (e..g, makeup from the pharmacy down the street, or wedding presents from the shop around the corner). I’m not actually getting any work done here.

Lately I’ve been rolling in closer to 10 and escaping closer to 4, if not earlier. I’ve been gone before 3.30 for the last two days in a row. I left around 2 on Tuesday because I had a list of shopping that required I drive out to a mall 16 miles from the house. I left at 3 on Wednesday because I had a major tension headache from clenching my teeth. I think this was the result of Tuesday’s shopping trip (plus overall stress plus ritalin); I brought home 4 bags and the contents of 3 of them will go back to the stores tonight or tomorrow morning. I had a massage this morning. Aside from the fact that my therapist looked like she’d spent some time in prison, it was enjoyable. It helped but not nearly enough. I still feel somewhat relaxed but also a little sleepy and just…weird. I can honestly say that my back muscle spasms are the worst they have ever been, and consequently I now have a membership at our local Massage Envy franchise. Amazingly, with a membership, it’s cheaper to go there than it was at the rec center at Big Rural Alma Mater.

I’m stressed now about family stuff: I just realized this morning that my mom & grandma, brother & friend, dad, grandpa, uncle and uncle’s uninvited girlfriend will arrive within 6 hours of each other. Mom & grandma land at 7.30, brother 3 & his travel friend land at 9.30, and dad, grandpa, uncle & girlfriend will arrive at 11.30. Hubby, Brother 2 & his fiance will all arrive the next day. Although this does not sound like a problem, anybody familiar with the history of planning this wedding will know why I’m alarmed (there are too many posts about the wedding to add individual links, so it’s better just to look at posts with the “weddings” tag). In a nutshell, I’m not sure it’s such a great idea to try to put all these people in the same room together, WITHOUT my hubby along to help me keep everything in perspective. Keep in mind that I will be staying at my mom-in-law’s house, with her and Hubby’s brother 2, and that the three of us will be the only non-jetlagged people in this equation. Not a pretty picture, huh? At least if things get bad I can retreat to hubby’s old bedroom and hide under the duvet. Or I could just escape (thank SCIENCE I know sufficient Danish and enough of København to get around by myself), although that would be truly cruel to my sweet mom- and bro-in-law.

Trying to destress….trying really hard to destress… in a little over a week, it will all be over, and life can get back to normal.

so tired….

I am just so tired ever since coming back from lunch. Some co-workers and I thought it would be a good idea to enjoy lunch and <gasp> the sun while sitting outside in a plaza near our office. I had a good time, ate a little too much, and came back soooooo tired.

I have been crunching numbers ever since then, which really doesn’t help with my afternoon sleepiness. Since June 1, I have spent 8 days working on a paper revision. Today I reanalyzed the data for the fourth time this month. The only difference between this revision and the last few? 4 fewer cases were included in the dataset. Need I even state for the record that these are the types of assignments that set my teeth on edge, that make me want to scream out of frustration? I don’t even want to think about how many times I’d analyzed and re-analyzed these data prior to the initial submission. Let’s just leave it as this paper has started to take over my life, and I’m just the third author on the paper!!!

I’m printing reams of output as I type this entry, and have 2 more models to tweak tonight before I can go home. Needless to say, I will have to bring the paper file and the aforementioned bundle of results home with me to finish over the weekend, because that’s the only way this is going to get done in time for our resubmission deadline.

In my few free moments, I submitted a paper for review and did attrition analyses for another paper. Alas, in the attrition analyses, I found that our study dropouts differ from the analytic sample in some predictable ways (e.g., dropouts were less likely to live with both of their biological parents at ages 13-14; dropouts were less likely to have ever cohabited or married by age 21 than retained cases). The implication is that our analytic sample is a mixed bag — they are probably risker than “the norm” (whatever that means) in some ways but less risky in others.

My printer has finished its aerobic churning, so it’s back to the model-fitting drawing board for me!

Have a nice weekend, everyone!

pre-wedding anxiety dream

As a psychologist, I don’t “buy into” dream analysis. All in all, I think it’s crap, because I subscribe to the theory that dreams are the product of random neuronal firings. Our neurons get active in weird ways while we sleep, and our brains try to make sense of it by building a story around it.

Last night I dreamed that it was the night before the wedding, but I was already dressed. All of my hubby’s Scandinavian relatives were staying in the same house with us. The house was totally surrounded by water, and the cats went swimming in it for koi-like goldfish and what appeared to be deep-fried shrimp. While swooshing around the house in my entire wedding ensemble and trying to get the cats out of the water, I suddenly remembered that I’d neglected to buy Christmas presents for hubby’s younger brother, and that I still had data that needed to be analysed. I plunked myself down a table in order to crunch some numbers on my laptop, when hubby’s big brother came by and said “You’re doing that wrong… you need to analyse the covariance matrix instead of the raw data” [keep in mind, IRL, hubby's big brother is in business management, not statistics!]. He then sat down and proceeded to modify my data file and do my analyses for me. In the meantime, hubby came by and started whining about my eye makeup and veil. It seems that he didn’t want me to wear my veil at all, and that big brother also had some ideas about my eye makeup [NO IDEA where that one came from.... big brother is married, has 2 beautiful kids, and to my knowledge, has never worn eye makeup!]. At this point of the dream, I locked myself into the room where all the Scandinavian aunts and girl cousins were also getting ready. Hubby knocked and banged on the door, pleading with me to come out and get married. Yet, when I opened the door, his brother still had his ideas about my eye makeup…

At this point I forced myself to wake up, thank goodness. Some of the details make me laugh a little bit (the eye makeup, and that I can’t get away from data analysis, even in my sleep). Others are just weird. For example, my hubby is one of the most easy-going guys in the world, and has no preference about whether I wear a veil or not. He just prefers that I don’t wear it over my face when I walk down the aisle. As I’m already pretty clumsy, wearing a layer of netting over my face for a ritual walk seems like a very bad idea. He’s also been a little fussy (or in his words, “fuzzy”) about the processional and recessional marches, but certainly not to the degree that I’d lock myself in a room and not come back out.

I guess it’s all just stress and my brain trying to play tricks on me.

tropical macaroons baking in the oven…

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve liked to putter in the kitchen and make up my own recipes. Some of these have been fantastic flops, such as the “Mint Maple Cake” I created when I was 10 (FYI… in case you were wondering, mint and maple absolutely do not go together, sort of like basil and chocolate!).

Today I realized that we have no sweets in the house, other than some sugar-free popcicles and my hubby’s carton of “Monkey Bites” from Coldstone Creamery. We have no chocolate chips. We have no chocolate of any kind, except for some cocoa. We have cake mix, coconut, and some fruit. I decided it was time to dust off my apron and make up a new recipe. Taking inspiration from Coconut & Lime (a cooking blog I read from time to time), I decided to try to make up some tropical macaroons. I modified a mental recipe for regular macaroons, using a little bit of the stuff I had in my kitchen. I did this despite my fear that I was having a major ADD moment, and that I’d end up wasting time and ingredients on inedible crap.

The recipe. I melted a stick of margarine, added 2 eggs, the peel and juice of one lime, a small dash of dried orange peel, and a good-sized dollop of rum (1/4 C?). I blended on medium for a minute or so, then added some brown sugar (1/3 C?) & a box of white cake mix. Blended some more until it was all well-combined. Then I added 1/2 bag of coconut, which I had to mix in by hand.

I have three sheets of cookies in the oven as I write this. The oven is set at 350, and they’ve been in there for about 15 minutes. I just checked them and they are still too soft and raw. I turned up the oven to 375, and will watch them turn a light golden brown.

As this was an experiment, I made several versions of the same cookie. I rolled the first batch in brown sugar before baking it. I made the second tray plain. The third tray has 1T extra rum. We’ll see which is the best once they’re out of the oven! Pics and an evaluation to follow…
<later>

Definitely go for the extra rum version rolled/dipped in brown sugar, then call your dentist in the morning. Yum.

a little too much ritalin turns me into one of “those” brides…

Yesterday was the last day I will try the extended-release ritalin. The dose is too low to work yet I still get really anxious. Not just a little jittery anxious, but full-on OCD-like anxious that just doesn’t occur when I take instantaneous-release ritalin. I was not only unable to make a decision about how to deal with some data, but I also obsessed about the wedding for the entire day. Being unable to divert my attention from attempting perfection in work and the wedding was the overall theme of the day.

Somehow I got it into my head that it would be a good idea to do welcome bags for all the out-of-town guests. I purchased 40 clear gift bags and a pound of loose tea before I could stop myself. I emailed Jan’s brother about helping me on this project. I ordered cards, stickers and envelopes to hold the teabags I was going to assemble myself. A few hours later I returned to sanity, realizing that doing welcome bags is out of the question when I can’t even decide how to deal with data I’ve been working with for 5+ years, and when I can’t figure out how to get a prepaid Danish simcard for my phone before my arrival. canceled the order for cards, stickers and envelopes. The tea and gift bags had already been shipped by this point. Good thing that both my sister-in-law and I both like rooibos tea, because we’re going to have a lot of it for quite some time! 40 clear plastic gift bags will be harder to use, but use them we shall nonetheless. We’re still going to make a schedule and maps for all the guests, but are going to mail them to their houses next week.

Yet despite this resolution to relax about the wedding and just go with whatever makes the most practical sense, I still found myself at Michael’s, struggling to decide whether to spend $10 or $1 on spools of ribbon to tie around the bundles of birdseed. After 5 minutes of hemming and hawing, I finally was able to shout at myself “IT DOESN’T MATTER. It’s just ribbon, and the guests will only see it for the 2 minutes they have the birdseed bundles in hand.” Naturally, being the thrifty woman I am, I ended up going with 2 spools of periwinkle ribbon (the $1 option). They don’t match anything else, but too bad.

I will be so glad when the wedding is over, and when my medication will become a routine. I will get my brain and my energy back!

On an entirely different topic, I’ve decided to change my blog in three key ways for the future. First, my blog will be “sanitized” instead of making it entirely inaccessible during my academic job search. Over the next two months, I will (at least temporarily) remove all of my potentially-identifying information. If you noticed the new title, then you noticed that I’ve already started in this effort! Second, I’m also going to attempt to make it more about academia, the academic job search, and where appropriate, academia and ADD. This will naturally be easier once the wedding is over. Finally, I’m going to try to use more pictures because it just makes everything a little more fun. See, I’ve already started working toward this goal, too!

argh! It’s starting already!

Alternate title: Just what I needed… another distraction!

It’s really already started, way sooner than I thought it would start. The first developmental psych job ad for Fall 2008 has been posted. Anybody know anything about Boise, Idaho?

I’m puzzled… they posted on 1 June, but the application deadline is 1 November. There will be ads posted in September that close in October. Are they trying to keep their application pool really wide or do they just want to make sure that everybody knows about their ad?

Should I start reworking my materials ASAP, instead of waiting until after the wedding?

Would I ever really want to live in Boise? I wonder if it would be about the same as Fargo, North Dakota, where one of my colleague-friends lives? What grows in Boise, anyway?

FYI, the sooner I submit an application, the sooner my blog will be restricted to “special readers.” If you want to be on the list, let me know sooner rather than later. If you don’t know my email address, click the “about me” link at the top of my blog to send me a message though a form. No worries if you’re a reader who I don’t know in person!

bowing to Derek

Last week, I was distracted while making dinner and cut my thumb while slicing a cucumber. I  cut 1/8″ into my thumbnail and nail bed. It hurt, and I bled a little.  Almost a week later, the nail bed seems to have healed, and only a pinhead-sized “scab” is left under the nail, which is still hanging and keeps catching on my hair, kitchen towels, etc. This is very annoying and somewhat worrisome, as I don’t want to lose a big chunk o’nail right before a photographer will be taking photos of our hands.

Last night, my hubby talked to our friend Derek. It turns out that earlier last week, he’d also accidentally injured his hand while replacing his kitchen floor. However, he did this with a band saw, not a small serrated kitchen knife. Alas, he cut down to the bone from the tip to 1st knuckle on one of his fingers. In typical low-key fashion for Derek, he didn’t panic and went outside to see if he needed help. One of the contractor’s saw his hand and exclaimed about it being a bad injury and needing medical attention. So off Derek went to his local ER. A measly 8 hours later, he had some stitches, and hopefully some pain medication.

Derek, if I wore a hat, I would doff it in your honor. As I do not wear a hat, I will blog-bow to you instead. Here I was whining about having to visit a salon to get my nail repaired by a nail tech, and you’re off getting your hand repaired by a medical doctor. I’m very glad that you kept all your fingers, and hope that this incident doesn’t ruin your enjoyment of your new kitchen floor!

virtual latte with grad advisor

…although for the record, I drank a yummy herbal-white tea blend (Queen of Babylon blended with Rose Garden Rooibos). But I’m already getting ahead of myself.

Before the virtual latte, I met with my postdoc advisor very briefly this morning. Told him about all that’s going on right now — that I’d sent 4 pages of the discussion on one paper on which I’m the lead author, that it took me way longer to work through my revisions on another paper on which I’m the third author (I just didn’t say why it took longer than I’d planned), and that I was waiting for data for another paper. He’s pleased with the start on the discussion and will look at it closely over the next week. He was very pleased with my revisions on the other paper, and is looking forward to hearing more about the data analyses on the final paper we discussed. I also mentioned the recent rejection on the leftover paper from grad school, and he agreed that we needed to appeal it, given the bizarre circumstances. I cued him that I would be ready to talk about long-term goals and career life stuff at our next meeting in two weeks. He wanted to know if I was still thinking about writing a K99/R01 (mini-big grant that is supposed to help postdocs transition into independent researcher roles). I told him that I have thought about it and don’t see it in the cards (and I thought but didn’t say “…I have better things to do with my time right now!!!”). I told him about the phone call with my old advisor, and that I’d be at home for the rest of the day working on that, reviewing a paper for a journal, and proofreading a colleage’s grant.

I cut out of work shortly after on this basis, made a quick stop at Trader Joes’ for vegetables, salsa, etc., and then ran home. Had about a half hour to eat some lunch, make my tea and just relax a bit before calling my grad advisor (This will be an abbreviated, inarticulate version of our conversation because I need to leave for the airport relatively soon).

First, she was pretty mad about our rejection (and watch out when my grad school advisor is mad or annoyed!). She reviewed our old reviews and thinks that they are being unreasonable. From the first round of reviews, the reviewers knew about the problems they used as a basis for rejecting it this time around. Ergo, if they were going to reject it on these grounds, they should have done it during the first round of reviews instead of the third. At the very least the editor needs to get another review for us. She had some ideas for how I could structure the appeal email. If the editor won’t budge to my appeal, she’ll try again on our behalf (she’s tenured and thus can be more intimidating than me!)

Second, we chatted for a long time about what research projects I have ongoing, what I still plan to do in the near future, and what I’ve got on the backburner for the time being. In a nutshell, she thinks:

I’m being way too hard on myself for this point in my career. I’m just a postdoc, and professional development is a developmental process.

She also thinks my postdoc advisor is a jerk, although she didn’t say it directly. She did state explicitly that I was “raised” to different standards in my grad program; specifically, I was not raised to view myself as a slave at Big Rural Alma Mater, whereas I am in my lab at Large Research University. She said I need to start speaking up for myself more, and acknowledged that it’s hard for nice people to do. I need to start expecting authorship on papers I’ve contributed to, even if it’s just proofreading, as other authors are being added to my papers just for proofreading.

She also said that I was being held to unrealistic expectations in terms of where postdocs should and can reasonably publish. Any publications are good at this point in my career, and they don’t necessarily have to be in the *best* developmental psychology journals. She said I need to get stuff off the backburner and out of filing cabinets if the work’s already done, despite my current sense of overextension. She’s going to take the lead on at least one old paper that’s currently in the filing drawer.

We also talked about what type of job I’m going to be looking for next year. Her thoughts: I should apply broadly for both selected liberal-artsy jobs and at some state institutions. I want to be at a place in which drawing grant funding is a bonus, not a condition for tenure. She mentioned that I don’t need to cave to pressure to go to a Ph.D.-granting institution if I think I can do the type of research I want to do without Ph.D. students. I don’t necessarily want Ph.D. students, because in grad advisor’s words, “They’re a major time sink!” She also added, however, that it sometimes pays off, because then former students can become collaborators later on, teach old dogs new stats skills, etc. But, often times, there are good undergrads who can assist with data collection, data entry, etc. I have a feeling that this might work for me, since I think of myself more as an data analyst and wouldn’t feel right if somebody else was crunching the numbers (I don’t trust them to necessarily do it right. Yes, I’m sick).

She said that I should just start looking forward to collecting my own data, because I’ll finally be able to stop trying to make silk purses out of sow’s ears with other people’s data.

She had some specific ideas about some of my projects, how I can minimally revise them in order to get them out and under review by the time I start applying for jobs.

Last but not least, she also asked if I’d be interested in coming on to a paper off the project that supported me while I was still a grad student at Big Rural Alma Mater. They need somebody who can do structural equation modeling (a fancy type of statistical analysis that scares the living daylights out of people who don’t know it), and specifically somebody who can troubleshoot a model that’s refusing to run. I can do that, I’m used to working with these data, and the topic is in line with my research. So, it looks like I’m adding another paper to my already-full queue.

In summary, I am feeling much less discouraged following our conversation. She clearly has confidence in my abilities if she’s still willing to ask me to do papers with her. She also said that I can call her at any time if I have any additional existential crises :-S If nothing else, it sounds like she’s willing to help me keep it together so I can get out of here next year.

Her token thank-you gift has already been shipped.