Monday, February 23, 2009
Archive Madness
Feburary is nearly gone and I have yet to write a single blog entry. Perhaps this is the inevitable consequence of beginning a dissertation. For the past week, I have traveled to my archive (which, you'll recall is going to be closing within the next six months to a year) to begin digging into whatever materials I can find on the development of LCD's. Everyday, I make the forty-five minute drive, stop by the security guard at the front gate to remind him that I am a formally sanctioned researcher, and pick up my badge from the patient receptionist in the building's main lobby. Thus far, I have shown up on time despite frustratingly unpredictable traffic patterns of the final ten miles of driving. Each day I have sat on the couch in the main lobby waiting for the archivist to escort me to the library and the seemingly endless array of documentation waiting for me to sift through it...to pin it down, dissect it, and somehow reconstruct a Frankenstein monster of a narrative.
On the archivist's recommendation, I have begun by sifting through annual research reports. They are mostly dry and technical, with occasional references to additional literature circulated among various corporate staff members. I try hard to focus, but it is difficult when many of the concepts remain elusive. I have yet to really pin down the difference between the Peltier and Seebeck effect. I can not tell you how a transfluxor works, though I'm relatively certain it is important. Nor can I, with any degree of certainty, really explain the shortcomings of the Aiken tube. But they are all there. And they are, to varying degrees all important to the story. Despite my best efforts, I am drawn to look up answers to my technical questions online. This, of course, opens up the door to checking e-mail or writing pub quiz questions before I realize that I've strayed too far from my task and force myself to return to work.
Just when it seems like things are going well, it's lunch time. I have no choice in the matter. My badge of entry in this archive requires that I have an escort, so when the archivist says he's hungry, I have to join him for lunch. We go and chat with people who still work in the laboratory where the archive is housed. I'm not really as interested in the conversation as in getting my work done, but I try to stay calm and enjoy the sandwich I bring from home.
Once again, we return to the archive and I sit down and get back to work. Depending on the day, it might be another two hours, or another five, before I finally finish. I save my document and pack up, drive home during rush hour, and make dinner. If I'm smart, I've already prepared something using my slow cooker. If I'm not, then I improvise. No matter how hard I try to force myself to do secondary reading after dinner, I find myself unable to focus. I turn on the television or surf the web. After all, I'll just have to go back again tomorrow.
And this is my life now. I'm becoming a hermit. Unlike during generals, I don't have regular interaction with my peers during the day. Thankfully, there's my department's weekly program seminar every Monday and pub quiz every alternate Wednesday to ensure some degree of socialization. But even there, things feel a bit off. There's just so much to think about. So many books left unread, so many research reports and lab notebooks, and technical journals to read. My dissertation research is less than two weeks old and already I can feel it pulling me down.
This is not to claim that I have not tried to counter this frustration in constructive ways. I've started running again, though I wonder at times if it might have been wiser to wait until winter ended. And I've indulged my interest in cooking again, though mostly with the slow cooker since I'm out of the house so often.
But still, I wonder. If this is what being in the archives for only a few days is like...how does anyone ever survive writing a dissertation?
I hope I can figure that out soon.
Feburary is nearly gone and I have yet to write a single blog entry. Perhaps this is the inevitable consequence of beginning a dissertation. For the past week, I have traveled to my archive (which, you'll recall is going to be closing within the next six months to a year) to begin digging into whatever materials I can find on the development of LCD's. Everyday, I make the forty-five minute drive, stop by the security guard at the front gate to remind him that I am a formally sanctioned researcher, and pick up my badge from the patient receptionist in the building's main lobby. Thus far, I have shown up on time despite frustratingly unpredictable traffic patterns of the final ten miles of driving. Each day I have sat on the couch in the main lobby waiting for the archivist to escort me to the library and the seemingly endless array of documentation waiting for me to sift through it...to pin it down, dissect it, and somehow reconstruct a Frankenstein monster of a narrative.
On the archivist's recommendation, I have begun by sifting through annual research reports. They are mostly dry and technical, with occasional references to additional literature circulated among various corporate staff members. I try hard to focus, but it is difficult when many of the concepts remain elusive. I have yet to really pin down the difference between the Peltier and Seebeck effect. I can not tell you how a transfluxor works, though I'm relatively certain it is important. Nor can I, with any degree of certainty, really explain the shortcomings of the Aiken tube. But they are all there. And they are, to varying degrees all important to the story. Despite my best efforts, I am drawn to look up answers to my technical questions online. This, of course, opens up the door to checking e-mail or writing pub quiz questions before I realize that I've strayed too far from my task and force myself to return to work.
Just when it seems like things are going well, it's lunch time. I have no choice in the matter. My badge of entry in this archive requires that I have an escort, so when the archivist says he's hungry, I have to join him for lunch. We go and chat with people who still work in the laboratory where the archive is housed. I'm not really as interested in the conversation as in getting my work done, but I try to stay calm and enjoy the sandwich I bring from home.
Once again, we return to the archive and I sit down and get back to work. Depending on the day, it might be another two hours, or another five, before I finally finish. I save my document and pack up, drive home during rush hour, and make dinner. If I'm smart, I've already prepared something using my slow cooker. If I'm not, then I improvise. No matter how hard I try to force myself to do secondary reading after dinner, I find myself unable to focus. I turn on the television or surf the web. After all, I'll just have to go back again tomorrow.
And this is my life now. I'm becoming a hermit. Unlike during generals, I don't have regular interaction with my peers during the day. Thankfully, there's my department's weekly program seminar every Monday and pub quiz every alternate Wednesday to ensure some degree of socialization. But even there, things feel a bit off. There's just so much to think about. So many books left unread, so many research reports and lab notebooks, and technical journals to read. My dissertation research is less than two weeks old and already I can feel it pulling me down.
This is not to claim that I have not tried to counter this frustration in constructive ways. I've started running again, though I wonder at times if it might have been wiser to wait until winter ended. And I've indulged my interest in cooking again, though mostly with the slow cooker since I'm out of the house so often.
But still, I wonder. If this is what being in the archives for only a few days is like...how does anyone ever survive writing a dissertation?
I hope I can figure that out soon.
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