Monday, March 5, 2012


Sometimes the morbid part of my imagination takes over and proposes a situation in which I find myself "widowed" as it were. These scenarios are in general based, to greater or lesser degree on the lives we lead at the moment. The less mundane ways in which I imagine my partner dying include: he gets on a train where a swarm of killer bees gets loose and kills a good chunk of the passengers, he is caught on the wrong side of some protest or another*, he catches malaria and refuse to go to a doctor, he gets on a speeding bus to visit me on a particularly bad wintry night.

Yesterday's encounter with my morbid muser involved something happening to my partner's plane en route home at the end of the month. My mental eye skipped over the details of the immediate aftermath, which is where it usually likes to dwell, to next October, where it found me applying for jobs again, as planned, but to public high schools and a few progressive organizations in Grad School City. When I asked myself what I'm doing, I replied with surprising calm "The academic game is over. It was fun. It's time to settle down for the sake of Epsilon."

I wonder what this says about me.

* This is the only one that is completely a figment of my imagination. The other situations are minor variations of events that have actually happened. 


  1. I get the same feeling whenever my partner goes out even for a few days for a conference or to see his parents. I guess in my case, it is because of the insecurity I have because I live in USA with no other family member around and worrying about my kids if I were to raise them alone while giving them good education. Hang in there. He will be back home soon and these images will be gone.

  2. As lovely as it would be to have you back in GSC, I'd much rather have all three of you!