Husband is still deeply entrenched in the writing of his paper (and still doing some "final" experiments for it). He's been working crazy hours trying to get his experiments done, the paper written, and because of this his time with the Bean is way too scarce.
A few nights ago, as we were settling into bed, Husband says casually Maybe I don't want to do this tenure track thing after all. I don't want this to be my schedule for the next ten years.
Of course everyone goes through this kind of thing at every possible decision point in their career. And most postdocs are constantly asking the "is tenure track right for me?" question. Or, if you've already answered that question with a resounding HELL NO, you're wrestling with the even more amorphous question of "what the hell do I do with myself now?"
So I cooed reassuring things in Husband's general direction until we had satisfied ourselves that it wasn't a decision to be made in bed on a weeknight.
But, um, I'm a planner. I cannot handle open-ended, no-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel plans. It makes me feel unsettled to not have a plan.
I will support Husband in whatever career path he chooses, but it is driving me f*cking crazy to not have a plan. When will he get his paper out? Who knows! Is he applying for tenure track positions? Who knows! Will we be moving next summer? Who knows! What kind of job can I find if/when we move? Who knows! Can we afford to have a second child? Who knows! Are we facing a future as assistant managers of the local video strore? Who knows!
The life of a trailing spouse. I know, I volunteered for the job. But that doesn't mean it's not really annoying. I can't plan my career until I know what Husband's plans are. And until he knows... I'm up a creek.
In Which I Whine About Houses Yet Again.
1 day ago