The Fear

There's nothing quite like a pile of possibly life changing events to really put the fear into you. A great unknown opens in front of you, and options vanish into it like a black hole sucking in whole worlds. In the first case, flight tickets are now booked so that I can visit a dear friend, who I've never met, in Miami. Flight tickets. There's nothing I like less than flying. I've written whole posts, or think I have, about how I'll do anything to avoid getting on a plane, including doubling the time and expense to jump on a boat or train! Sadly, when it comes to reaching North America, there is only flying or the massively expensive trans-Atlantic crossing by sea. For your information, whether by cruise liner or freighter, it costs a mere one thousand pounds to cross the Atlantic by sea, each way. Yes, I'll write that again: Each way.

On top of the horrors of future flying, there is also the nightmare of co-writing a grant proposal, which is horrific enough even when the prize of success isn't a two year sojourn in another country. Yes, in a better frame of mind, these would be great avenues of opportunity, to be relished and enjoyed, but... I'm a coward. Yes, the author of the Quirky Muffin is a great big scaredy-cat. The fear of success, that most mystifying fear that touches so many, lurks here in the heart of man. Even the fear of finishing the joined-up version of 'Wordspace' is quite the potent one, as then phase two of that awesome endeavour will have to begin. Finishing things is always scary, isn't it, as you're trading a known for an unknown? Or is that negativity once again?

If this grant proposal were successful, the Quirky Muffin would be written from Poland for two years, more or less. Living in another country is a difficult proposition. People do it all the time, and I admire them for it. The adaptability of mind and manner required is immense, and of all the things I've ever done, moving around in the country and Europe has been the hardest. It's difficult. Maybe it's borderline Asperger-iness, the lack of conveniences, or the simply that the settling in period is so long, and the motivation almost always insufficient. Before that even becomes an issue, there's a bigger hurdle to cross: The career plan.

The career plan is the hardest part of higher level applications. It's never enough to write that you would like to be able to buy food for a few months and try out a new topic to see if it's interesting. No, you have to become eloquent and elaborate. You also have to pretend to talk about yourself, when really the reader wants to know if the things you want are compatible with their needs, and whether you're going to be a long-term investment to them or a short-term colleague. All these things need to be factored in with the notional idea of where you want to be at the end of the project. Where do I want to be? It's been a rough road in research so far, a very rough road. Writing and tutoring is far more pleasant, but pay no bills. It's the Sword of Damocles, hanging once again, ready to cause havoc on whichever side it tumbles. Or, perhaps, it's the Gordian know, which will not be solved.

You see, this is what happens when you think out loud while typing a blog. I miss my therapist. Sure, they wore a duck bill all the time, and thought the harmonica was the greatest instrument ever invented, but at least after the spouting of nonsense was over, you got to hear them use the duck call.

O.