Wednesday, October 29, 2008
My brain's feeling really numb. So I'll just sit around, and wait for the inevitable? I don't know if you've ever felt this way before - like chasing around something in tight little circles, only to get right back to where you started from, leaving behind debris, pandemonium and indelible footsteps in your wake. So you stand there, looking at the mess you've made, and wonder if it'd have been better just not to have moved around in the first place.
I have a problem with adaptation. I hate spectacular changes to my life. So maybe this contributes to a large part of what I'm feeling now?
Had a really refreshing talk with Yx over lunch yesterday - a good talk over pig's head terrine and duck leg confit. The problem with all of us is that we're all trapped. I envy those that aren't. When you truly hate something, you just grit your teeth and bear with it, only just because you really can't get out of it. I'm suddenly reminded of Smarty Pants' dilemna - dude, I wish I could offer you some better advice, but I too am a victim. And so is Montyelm. And so is Yx. So do look out for the multitude of contraptions designed to keep you in. "University? We'll subsidise you, and on top of that, offer you a 0% interest loan". That's fine, it's a necessity. "Doctorate? We'll offer you a scholarship, and on top of that, provide you with an allowance." Wow. "Post-doc? We'll offer you a place overseas." And you just go on signing on those little pieces of paper. Why? Because you think those 3 or 5 or 7 years will soon be over, easy. A stable job cum upgrading experience, so why not? But what then, when you realise that you've really had enough, when you finally see what you want out of the years you've been given? Do you really want to draw on that half-million-dollar backup that you've always known you've had, just in case you want to bail? And that is when you truly and properly realise that all you've been doing is to walk straight into the lobster pot. You see the exit, but you just can't - or won't, seeing as there's still food in the lobster pot - get out.
I'm reminded of those stories where people are held in artifical micro-environments, with their controllers successfully making them think that they've got everything they need.
I have something to work towards. Whether it can be fulfilled or not is really something else altogether. But at least I have a little sanctuary to preserve my sanity later on. It's radical, but I know deep down that it's what I've always been after. No more thoughts of having a small clinic somewhere in the heartlands, nor of an office in hospital. Not even that of a mahogany-panelled office with a long, soft couch. Yx, maybe we've just been looking for this all along, but have never really put our finger on it till now.
This may well be just an adaptive mechanism to stress, but whatever it is, I'm glad of it.
Labels: food
Wenky
7:06 AM
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