Firing on *some* cylinders

Ugh, I’m not sure if I’ve come down with something or not, but I’m not feeling the awesomest this here mornin’. . .

It could be stress-related, since I’ve been fretting hard over when I’m going to graduate (it’s a cyclical thing, and I’m a bit past it now but I’m sure I’ll be back here again). It continues to take me by surprise how emotional anguish can translate into flat-out physical illness. Grad school is not healthy. When I’m feeling most positive about the experience, I can say that grad school is nutritional for other parts of a person: it builds emotional endurance and encourages you to admit you need help and advice. Of course, I went to grad school hoping to learn awesome techniques and become a better researcher. . . hmm.

Of course, my mother is always right. That’s another lesson I keep learning. When things recently seemed insurmountable, I remembered mom right before the wedding. She said: “You know, whenever I feel overwhelmed, I just close my eyes and mentally ask for help. And usually, help shows up.”

So heck, that’s what I did. I closed my eyes and admitted I needed help, and asked for help. And some help did come in from outside sources: I got some cool microscopy pic’s for lab meeting from a fellow researcher. Andy continued to be superhumanly supportive (how does he DO that?). And I talked over the whole graduation thing with my boss, and got a better sense of what his expectations where.

One of my “life goals” is to translate nervous energy and worry into ACTION instead of fretting over it. I don’t think I can ever stop worrying, but maybe I can limit the time the worry has me.

Oh well, I guess I just want to encourage everyone to remember mom’s advice. Admitting you need help means you’re ready to receive help, and if it’s psychic magic or simple mental therapy. . . it works, man. It works.