Friday, Oct. 18, 2019 - 7:12 pm.
This week I got an email, first thing Monday morning, regarding the adoption form I'd submitted the previous Friday. The lady from the agency said the first step to start the adoption process was to attend an informative meeting. With my submission of that form, we'd been signed up for the next meeting, so now we just have to wait for the date. I'll take it as a good sign. Here people can take ages to answer your inquiries, I got a response the next working day.
It's weird to think that my child is already born and out there. Cool, nonetheless.
I got to come out to a friend on Wednesday. He doesn't strike me as fully straight either, but regardless of his own orientation (which: none of my business), he's the sweetest man and I felt absolutely safe doing it. On my side, though, it seems I only get clumsier at coming out. I stammer and trip on my own words. I think he already knew, anyway, so it wasn't that big of a deal. I say "I think" because my delivery was so clumsy that I'm not sure if he said "yes" because he knew, or as a way to encourage me to keep talking.
This friend, we invited him home for dinner this week so we could properly catch up after four years apart. This was timely because he also wanted to talk to us. He wants to continue studying, so we just sold him Sheffield, but mostly guided and encouraged him to prepare his uni/scholarship application for next year, wherever he wants to go. But seriously, he should go to Sheffield.
I was also *this close* to come out to my boss on Tuesday. We scheduled a quick meeting so I could fill her in on details of her research project, which I help oversee. The quick meeting ended up taking all morning, from 10:30 am to 12:15 pm. Actually, it was mostly personal chit-chat. She even opened up about financial troubles in her home, which suck big time, but I appreciated her trusting me.
After that, I thought we were done, but she asked me if I wanted coffee and I said yes. So we talked about a paper we were writing, and publishing woes. Then I asked her if she could continue being my sponsor if I won the research grant I applied for but found a job in another university. She said she wanted a smoke and so we could talk about that outside. The short version was that, yes, she'll still be my supervisor. The longer version included my possibilities of leaving if Andrew and/or me find a job in another city, because this university doesn't seem open to hiring new people. It was a good conversation, though! My boss cares a lot about me.
But yeah, I couldn't come out to her this time. For some reason, however, I was exhausted after our conversation, so exhausted that after that, I had lunch with Andrew on campus and then went home. I could not work for the rest of the day. However, I was also ridiculously horny. Do not take this the wrong way: Good-looking and badass as she is, I don't see my boss *that* way. It wasn't her, it was perhaps the overall feeling of intimacy with another woman that I derived from our conversation. A weird thing to get horny on, but I live in a boring faraway village. Let go of my arm.
In ten days, I have to go to the capital to renew my passport. It's such a hassle, living so far away from the capital and having to travel there, but once I'm done with that, I can start planning my trip to my home country in January. Maybe Andrew can come with me and we can make a day out of it.
On the immediate horizon, I have my eyes set on working on that mess I call my manuscript, making a little comic (general badly drawn silliness in print which no one will buy, but I love it), and preparing job applications. There are currently two universities calling for Psych academics, one is near the capital, and the other -just starting out their Psych program- is down south... and we're already down south here. I'm keen on this second option, even though it's in the middle of nowhere, and the photo I saw of the university made it look like a cabin up for rent on AirBnB. At least it's in between ice fields and not in the desert.
It's dinner time! And we're having nachos! Because Andrew's thesis corrections were accepted so he's a Doctor now, too! But we'll have official word on that until next week. In the meantime: Nachos!
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WAIT! MY GOD! Eleven years ago, I graduated as a Psychologist and Joseph said we were on a break (i.e. he broke up with me). Remember when that mattered? It feels like a past life now.
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