I have a new job. I am a post-doc research fellow, whatever that means. I am excited about the company. I am excited about the unit I am working with (Education). I am excited about my colleagues. I am especially excited about my boss. I am still so bright eyed that I love her. But then again I am quite impressionable and easily impressed by people who are at the top of their game and are good at what they do. She is at the top of the game and good at what she does. Talking to her feeds something in me... something growing. Ambition perhaps. Passion maybe... yes for research - sue me, I am a nerd - but also for making a difference. Our research informs social and economic policy. This is pretty special.
After two weeks of working - in my own spacious office with a door that has my name on it*, and a view of the city - I HATE leaving the house to catch the train at 6:30am but I am loving where that train takes me to.
Insert within the chapter:
I hope this is a chapter I am going to enjoy writing over the next few years. Though I must admit that in the
45seconds between my 5:20am alarm and the moment [Himself] literally has to shove me out of bed the following picture looks VERY attractive:
Dr Farmer Mrs Becks-[Himself] owner of the Tranquil Organic Farm (TOF), nestled in a valley amongst the rolling green hills of the Limpopo Province. All year round Farmer Becks breeds organic poultry and in the summer she grows organic strawberries and blueberries. In the summer the children from the neighbouring villages bring her baskets of ripe delicious mango and banana. In return she tutors them in English and Mathematics. During winter when there are no berries and the children prefer the warmth of their homes she frees up her time to sit on her patio under a gas heater over looking the lush vegetation of the area and writes science fiction. [Himself] joins her every weekend from his city job. He is working towards early retirement so he can join her permanently. His dream is to set up a solar power plant in the area to provide electricity to the villages around them. Sometimes her friends and their children come to visit. She doesn't have to get up for the 6:30am train.
*It says Dr Becks but I wonder if I should change it to Dr Mrs Becks-[Himself] to reflect the many things that I am.
If you think working plebs have to wake up early, you should see the ungodly hours that farmers keep! I don't know what's wrong with milking a cow at a nice and comfortable 16:43. Is the milk fresher in the morning?
ReplyDeleteI don't think I told you how incredibly happy I am for you. I know you fought with all your might to resist this horrible "working" thing, but now that you've found something you enjoy, you'll be in an unfortunately rare group. So a toast: here's hoping you keep loving it. And if not, here's to looking forward to some Becks Xtra-Fresh Chicken (R).
Aw! Thank you SDV. But that post was a week ago. After being in Three cities in almost as many days for work I think Becks Xtra-Fresh Chicken might look like more of a realistic output from me than, say a paper on Skills development in South Africa.
ReplyDeletePS That is a GOOD question. Is it fresher in the morning considering that they have machines milking the cows and the milk goes straight into refridgerated tanks. Hmmmmmm.