task done

we made it: the proposal is submitted. transitioning to revising papers. woo hoo?

inevitable negativity

i am now (technically) a faculty member at harvard medical school ("instructor": about as junior junior junior as possible)! wow! and, (technically), no longer a postdoctoral fellow: i am now a "senior scientific associate". all so i can apply for a grant with a less than a 1% chance of getting funded (optimistic i am). so, something there. beautiful appearance of progress.

also, couple of papers accepted; probably will have a paper in PLoS-one, which is nice, but i'm third of four authors, so..

***

came up with this on the train, coming home last friday night (9-28-12)

on Cambridge Street
put away
your umbrellas
or they'll wind up
cast aside
in tattered heaps
abandoned

on Cambridge Street
thrust your head
into the wind
and bear the rain
it's autumn
it's not cold yet
be thankful

中秋快乐!

quick notes for the end of september:

week 1 of bring-your-laptop-to-work was a success; worked steadily in the lab every day, and came home each night to do particular jobs by hand, with pen and paper. extremely effective. laptop came back home friday night; going to continue this for the foreseeable future. should make the next MS revision and the following MS submission much easier.

headache last night, gradual onset; eventually focused pain above right eye socket; photophobia; went to bed, closed eyes, weird eigenlicht flicker, maybe 40-50Hz; what is that? slight headache remnant now, indistinct.

recent weirdness with reading text, usually notice in the morning; right now, left of fixation feels scotoma-like, but i can see there..

**

also, a story: when i sit at the kitchen table, in the chair by the window, i have a view of the pantry area, with the fridge and the back door. my leather sandals are wedged between the fridge and the wall, by the door, so i can wear them outside when i go to throw trash out.

i regularly mistake the sandals, peripherally, for Olive the Cat, sitting by the back door, wanting to go out. then i foveate them, and see that they are my sandals. this has happened repeatedly, maybe dozens of times: deja trompé!

why do i keep writing poems

Batten down the hatches!
In this electric squall
Or else we'll be sent to the deep -
The web will drown us all.

So home I'll go! To printed word,
With pen and paper work.
No opportunity to drift
Through forums or to lurk

In hiding from my calling,
I'll forge ideas by thought
And stare down syntax, words reform
To make all logic-wrought.

So batten down the hatches!
And keep the ship afloat
For though I'll try to steer us,
The net may wreck this boat.