I'm too busy to tell people how busy I am

Saying I’m having a slow period at work is an understatement. I am having a stopped period at work. Granted our project runs in six month cycles: collect data (ie., interview drug users, dealers, cops, treatment providers), transcribe data (my student does, not me), analyze data, write up report, edit reports, submit reports to the state, edit reports again, post for publication. Our cycles end in January and June. We are between the “submit report to the state” portion of our June cycle and just before the “transcribe data” for January. I.E. NOTHING TO DO RIGHT NOW. Until we get approval to move forward with the June reports and the tapes transcribed for the January reports were are at a numbing stalemate.

My job pays me probably more money than it should for the actual amount of work produced. It has a flexible schedule (9:30am-5pm), a generous lunch (1hr) and my own office (er, uh. cubical) to keep my stuff in. I really can’t complain (and with a 7% unemployment rate and friends and family losing their jobs, I feel guilty for complaining) and besides I have two other jobs and a hunky husband to keep me busy. However, my previous jobs had me up to my ears in stress and work. Tasks that made my brain spin with cost effective strategies and decisions that impacted the way people received services. I miss that. I actually miss forgetting to eat, back-to-back meetings and not opening a single browser all day. I miss feeling like I contributed to something on a daily basis and that my input was vital to the happenings of an organization. Research, epidemiological/anthropological research at that, just isn’t meant to produce immediate gratification. Damn you epidemiology (one time a bitchy girl from my high school asked my mom if I give epidurals all day long. Um. no. AND, you're officially dumb.) I think jobs reflect different times in our lives that can mostly be summed up by cliches: entry level; means to an end; paycheck to paycheck; pain in the a@@. This is my blue period. Not sad blue, just stalemate blue and in nineteen months we will be off on a new adventure. In the next six months or so we get to start planning and thinking about that move. It might be the biggest move of my life thus far. Where? I don’t know. I am excited, but it had better not be blue.

Did I mention I submitted an abstract on substance abuse in the elderly (those oldies love them some crack!) and I might be HERE for St. Patty’s Day? Giada liked it, so I'm sure I will too! (Seriously, could she possibly eat the food in a more sexy way?) Sorry internets, if accepted, I’ve already asked my mom to join me. She’s having a blue period too.