failure to succeed
A week in which a lack of success is sapping my determination to press on regardless.
First the weather has been difficult - I don't mind the cold but wet snow is hard to deal with. Then I heard I had been unsuccessful in my application for a small but prestigious prize. Oh well, now I don't have the pressure of making a speech or giving a lecture next year - or the expense of buying new clothes and getting my hair done for these events either, so I'm not heartbroken.
Still, it does mean I'm batting 0 for 2 in the funding applications, which is a little disheartening.
Ozzie offspring returned 3 weeks early, with a tropical weather habit, so my heating bills will be through the roof. He is happily esconced, eating his head off and no hope of a job in sight. The extra cooking, cleaning and shopping is adding many extra hours onto my work week.
Having discovered last week, almost by accident, that someone else is tackling a very similar topic to mine - and is 2 years further on than I am - I am trying to deal with that problem by joining a post-graduate seminar group, so I can keep a closer eye on her and other post-grads. I am quite happy to share information as long as I am in the loop. I shall have to give a presentation to this group in a few weeks' time, so there is another little project to occupy me.
The next problem is a cyst on my finger. Having been treated without any success for some months at my doctor's surgery for a wart, I finally convinced them: it isn't a wart but a cyst and as it is on a joint, it cannot be removed at the surgery. At the local hospital today, I was told that it cannot be removed by the small-ops there either and will require the attention of a plastic surgeon. So now, having endured several sessions with the blow-torch, sorry, wart-freezer canister (which removed the skin from the top joint of my finger) and over-the-counter remedies asserted to be wholly effective (wholly ineffective), and months of watching it get bigger and more sensitive, I will have to wait to hear from the (bigger) hospital, by which time it may require skin grafted from another part of my body.
So, there's my week and it isn't even half over. I feel like going to bed and pulling the covers over my head and emerging next week, or maybe in April.
First the weather has been difficult - I don't mind the cold but wet snow is hard to deal with. Then I heard I had been unsuccessful in my application for a small but prestigious prize. Oh well, now I don't have the pressure of making a speech or giving a lecture next year - or the expense of buying new clothes and getting my hair done for these events either, so I'm not heartbroken.
Still, it does mean I'm batting 0 for 2 in the funding applications, which is a little disheartening.
Ozzie offspring returned 3 weeks early, with a tropical weather habit, so my heating bills will be through the roof. He is happily esconced, eating his head off and no hope of a job in sight. The extra cooking, cleaning and shopping is adding many extra hours onto my work week.
Having discovered last week, almost by accident, that someone else is tackling a very similar topic to mine - and is 2 years further on than I am - I am trying to deal with that problem by joining a post-graduate seminar group, so I can keep a closer eye on her and other post-grads. I am quite happy to share information as long as I am in the loop. I shall have to give a presentation to this group in a few weeks' time, so there is another little project to occupy me.
The next problem is a cyst on my finger. Having been treated without any success for some months at my doctor's surgery for a wart, I finally convinced them: it isn't a wart but a cyst and as it is on a joint, it cannot be removed at the surgery. At the local hospital today, I was told that it cannot be removed by the small-ops there either and will require the attention of a plastic surgeon. So now, having endured several sessions with the blow-torch, sorry, wart-freezer canister (which removed the skin from the top joint of my finger) and over-the-counter remedies asserted to be wholly effective (wholly ineffective), and months of watching it get bigger and more sensitive, I will have to wait to hear from the (bigger) hospital, by which time it may require skin grafted from another part of my body.
So, there's my week and it isn't even half over. I feel like going to bed and pulling the covers over my head and emerging next week, or maybe in April.
posted by ruth @ 3:13 PM
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