the work-life balance myth

I've got this great new outlook on life, where if there is something that I do not like, or something that bothers me, I've decided that it simply does not exist. Humidity, political attack ads, homework. They just don’t exist. It’s a great system.

The latest thing that just does not work for me therefore am moving to dismiss it entirely for the rest of my life: “work-life balance.”

Work-life balance is talked about ad nauseum on the internet. I think it’s because misery loves company. Or insecurity loves company. No one has it figured out so we look anywhere for people that do have it figured out and that is comforting, until we realize that work-life balance is so individualized that none of that helps. The 7-Year Postdoc was a really popular post ostensibly about how to have fun! while being really stressed out! But her descriptions of handling work-life balance sounded like a nightmare. On top of not having a partner to split 50-50 parenting, I'm not a stay-at-work-late kind of person. I am shit at compartmentalizing different parts of my life. So when I read this account of work-life balance, I was devastated. (That's way too strong a word. I was just kind of pissed at my lack of efficiency.)

So then I looked inward. And focused on Lena and focused on me and set up some play dates and made it through 5 seasons of Gilmore Girls in less than two months. (Actually when you think about that I have work-life balance completely under control. You don't make it through 100 episodes of Gilmore Girls without being incredibly efficient and extremely dedicated. Work ethic, who would dare say that I don't have one.) And then I figured it out.

There is no work-life balance.

It just doesn't exist. Mostly because for me, there is no work. It's just life. This is the life I chose, and I am the luckiest person in the world to be doing every day, what I love. Which is to say, living. And for me living happens to include, taking care of another human being, who I love (thank goodness because otherwise it would be harder), designing experiments, learning new techniques, reading papers, attending seminars, going to class, cooking dinner, cleaning the house, giving another human being some interesting experiences and cultural exposures, and taking care of myself. Ok so listing it all out like that seems really overwhelming but it's surprisingly not. The idea that there is no balance between all of these things is, well, liberating.

Since there's no work-life balance, there's definitely not a one-size-fits-all solution. 

Just like the 7-year postdoc lifestyle made me want to hurl, I'm sure my lifestyle is horrific to some. But it works for me. Some weekends I cook for the week and freeze meals and am very martha stewart. Some weeks I make ramen and chicken nuggets for me and Lena. Last week I forgot to remind Lena to turn in her homework and of course she forgot to turn in her homework, and it was ok. I've stopped doing dishes. L and I use paper plates and it is AMAZING, I just throw them away after we are done using them. I stopped making Lena elaborate lunches for school: she gets a turkey and cheese sandwich (with bread out of the freezer) and a bag of chips, applesauce, and a granola bar. Lena sleeps in my bed with me, because bedtime is some of the only uninterrupted time that I focus one-hundred percent on Lena, and I love it. Most of the time, I go to bed right after she falls asleep. It's early and I love it. Sometimes I wake up naturally before 5, and I'll get up and start the coffeemaker (all I have to do is flip the switch because I've filled up the machine the night before) and other times I wake up when my alarm goes off at 5:30. Early mornings are me time and making lunch time and watching an episode of Gilmore Girls time.

The balance part of work-life balance gives the impression that there is something to achieve. That I must devote some part of my day to watching the scales; to add and subtract things to reach and maintain the perfect level upon the ridiculous fulcrum that separates "work" and "life." Admitting that this balance just doesn't exist is the most wonderfully freeing thing I have done since...switching to paper plates.

I'm still figuring out how to do my best, trying to finish my biography of Grover Cleveland, etc, now instead of wasting a ridiculous amount of time on trying to maintain some absurd balance, I can focus my energy on doing my best. Being the best grad student I can be, being the best parent I can be, being the best person I can be. Because that is who I am, and that is my life. Balancing, optional.

older and wiser

I got my wisdom teeth out yesterday. Someone said to me, "You won't be wise anymore," to which I replied, "I was never, ever in danger of being considered wise. Wisdom teeth or otherwise."

So this happened--I decided not to do IV sedation because "going under" freaks me out more than intense pain. I guess I just like knowing what's going on. And maybe I'm afraid that when I'm out I'll pee in my pants or say something really embarrassing. A girl's got secrets, you know. So I decided to just do laughing gas and local anesthesia, also for the really embarrassing reason that IV sedation is like, a thousand bucks! I chose a really bad time to quit my sort-of-ok paying job to go to grad school, and move out and start paying rent. I'm full of really awesome ideas. (Reason #300 why I am not wise.)

As it turns out, I am one of those people that has a really bad reaction to laughing gas! Who knew! So I ended up getting all four wisdom teeth extracted, two that were impacted, while I was completely lucid.

It was actually a very cool experience. My mouth was completely numb, and I had all these crazy thoughts while they were extracting my teeth. One was just waiting to feel something, another was, as the oral surgeon was you know, yanking my teeth out of my mouth, thinking that I should ask him if he works out. Also that his name was Brent, which is not a very doctor-y name, and I kept having to remind myself to be calm and breathe out of my nose. I made a rockin' playlist, and it went by really fast, but I listened to a great combo of Mumford and Sons, the Black Lips, and the Devil Makes Three. And you know, I would love to take a poll on like, how much people like when their dentists talk to them while they're digging around in their mouth. I mean, every time the guy said, "sorry about that" I felt the need to be like, "oh it's fine" which a) of course it wasn't, and b) I wasn't going to be able to say that anyway.

Also I had this really funny thought while they were drilling through my teeth, with a drill, that was like, "what if I accidentally move my tongue into the drill and he cuts it off!" which is the same type of thought I have while walking down the lab bays at work. I always think, "oh my gosh, what if I accidentally kick someone's chair while they sit in it and screw up all their experiments." And I was thinking to myself, "Man, that's really enough drilling, don't you think?" as if now was a good time to practice positive thinking and self-actualization.


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L asked me if the tooth fairy was going to come and visit, and I laughed, and said, "maybe", and then thought, "oh jeez I have to be a tooth fairy at some point, and that is something they never tell you about when you're going to be a parent the hidden costs of parenthood." Except what I was really thinking was that the tooth fairy paid for my wisdom teeth to come out, which was actually a really great deal because the anesthesiologist said almost conspiratorially, "I didn't charge you for the nitrous oxide."


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I'd like to think I have a really high pain tolerance, but I think it's really more that I have a really-high-being-uncomfortable tolerance, which I'm trying to think of practical uses in the real world, and I can think of a couple, but none that will really get me ahead in life.


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L thinks this is all funny, that I'm "a little sick" but without any germs. And other than intense boredom and hunger, I haven't minded the recovery at all. It's actually giving me flashbacks to after I had Lena. I just kind of hung out and watched Gilmore Girls and marveled at this...baby...that I somehow landed responsibility of. (Note bad grammar and passive voice. that is completely how I would describe having a newborn. No time for correct sentence structure, and you're really just taking shit as it's thrown at you.)


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Anyway, summer is almost here. My job ends next week. Crazy shit has been happening, and I am just bulldozing through life, it feels like. I feel like I'm going to run some things over, and I'm definitely getting some bumps and bruises of my own on the way, but hey, apparently I have a really high tolerance for being really uncomfortable!

Not-guilty-at-all

I've got a new thing. I'm going to stop apologizing for my guilty pleasures. In fact, I'm going to start owing up to all my not-guilty pleasures. Starting with this first wonderful one.

Bunheads.

Bunheads on ABC Family. It's first season is almost over (season finale Monday at 9!), but it is awesome.

Why is it awesome, you might ask?

Because it's created by none other than Amy Sherman-Palladino, creator of those crazy fast-talking Gilmore Girls.

So Bunheads is basically Gilmore Girls reprised. Amy Sherman-Palladino apparently excels in writing the I-don't-want-to-grow-up woman in her mid thirties, positively ebullient with aging pop culture references, but who am I to complain?

The best thing about Bunheads is that AS-P is keepin' it in the family. So many actors that populated Stars Hollow have come back in Paradise, CA (p.s., it's also a quirky small town).

First up, Emily Gilmore. Starring in basically the same role except she's more edgy because she's in an interracial friends-with-benefits relationship. Oops spoilers.

To be fair, Emily Gilmore in real life really was a dancer. or something. Credit

Gypsy makes a few appearances.

Bonus feature, town meeting! credit.

Gosh I'm completely embarrassing myself with the amount of Gilmore Girls knowledge I have. Because I'm pretty sure that the guy in the previous picture was also on GG, as the pizza guy that makes Lorelai's birthday pizza that's supposed to break the Guinness book of world records for pizza and I swear that just came to me out of nowhere and if I could free up those brain cells I would in a heart beat.

And next up, Jason, playing the same fake-self-deprecating quasi-romantic love interest.

He even has the same voice. credit

And finally, best of all, the one and only...Kirk.

Also appearing with: the coffee obsession. credit.

Not pictured, Zack, as a one-eyed plumber (not kidding!)

Ok, I've got to go give my kid a bath and read The Odyssey and pretend like I am a grown up.

All in all Bunheads is a satisfying show if you enjoy quirk, kitsch, and pop-culture references. And ballet. If you like Gilmore Girls, and have nothing else to do on a Monday night and/or own a DVR, there is no reason why I would not recommend this show to you.  

Although if Jess and Luke show up on the season finale of Bunheads there will be squealing.

And since apparently I am feeling very confessional open (confessional implies guilt, and I will not be ashamed!) about all of these things, I will say that I just recently started watching Supernatural pretending that it is a spin-off show about Dean after he and Rory break up. Poor Dean/Sam, they got some tough breaks.