Dreams and reality

I left the house at 9 pm tonight (so early you ask. Why yes, my mother is in town visiting. JD is practically never home by 9) to head in to my office for a few hours work. I was more than slightly pissed at the usual criticism of my parenting (this time over my refusal to let the dumpling CIO but when you have a 12 month old with horrible separation anxiety and unexplained failure to thrive, it really doesn't seem like an ideal time to introduce a potentially emotional new bedtime routine. I'd rather just spend the half hour to rock him to sleep). So I was stewing and marching back to my office up the usual mile that I walk 1-4 times a day.

Except tonight was different. It's stunningly warm and instead of the usual loonies I encounter when I sneak out of my apartment at 11 pm the streets were filled with romantic couples. I walked past 3 restaurants with twinkling candles and full outdoor patios. And it really felt like a magical moment. A stroll in Paris or Brugges. Outdoor cafes, young couples, echoes of laughter spilling into the street, hints of live music from the jazz club ...

And it just made me wish that I could be part of it. One of those people who could relax on a Thursday night with a drink, or even just a long evening stroll with my husband and my double stroller.

I'm kind of at a cross-roads. My career seems to be careening towards a concrete wall and the impact is either going to be gruesome or just messy. Every morning I'm full of optimism and when I wake up with a panic attack punctually between 3 and 3:30 am every morning I can easily talk myself down with positive affirmations and detailed schedules. And then I actually get to my desk and utterly fail to write enough, to think through the problems, to send basic e-mails, to reread challenging texts (always in languages I struggle with). And I just can't figure out why. I really do want to finish this degree, I really do like my topic, I fundamentally have the skills to do it and yet, well, we're heading for a concrete wall at 100 mph. I've even convinced myself that just finishing is enough, that I can take time off after I finish and find something to do. But still, not working quickly enough. Not thinking hard enough. Not being creative enough and I can't quite figure out why.

And part of it is certainly the dread feeling that if this all fails there will be even fewer relaxing spring evenings strolling down the street. Not much to conclude here. I wish that I could be zen about the final outcome, or figure out a more effective strategy to push myself. I am now quite sure that "positive affirmations" do nothing towards the actual end output, and that I need to stop "taking care of myself" and just work. Less than a month to go and then this whole situation will be over in some form or another.

In the meantime, my husband forgot my birthday and I'm turning a year older in a couple of days. I have new shoes, and all else will have to wait.

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I guess that I just should have waited until I got home to write the conclusion. The warm spring air was still there a little after midnight, and the flowers were even more delightful in the dark, but the homeless men had taken over the ventilation grates and there were at least 10 rats frolicking merrily on our doorstep thanks to our building's uncovered trash cans. I am rather terrified of city rats, especially the kind that don't even try to hide when you stand there, so I had to wait and dash between them to get into our building. Terror, maybe I just need a bit more of it to push me farther.