Tales of the Invisible Ben

Splendid Isolation

For the past week, I have dedicated myself to writing what may very well be my first published scholarly article. My once pristine office area has reverted into full-on work mode, with books, binders, and file boxes scattered on every conceivable surface.

Every morning before I eat breakfast, I excavate the small portion of this material in front of my computer monitor so as to avoid damaging my documents. Then I work, or rather try to work, for a few hours before lunch. How many hours depends on how much writing gets done. If I make good progress, then an early afternoon repast is in order, but there have been days where I just don't eat anything until what would normally be dinner time. In either case, the books and papers get moved once again to either the top of my printer or the windowsill and then back. I try to come up with a few more brilliant things to say, though in most cases I'll settle for "vaguely reasonable" or "not bloody moronic." Depending on the time, perhaps I'll move my materials away one final time for dinner, or maybe I'll change things up and dine in front of the television, switching from one screen to another. Then a little bit more writing and then to bed.

The routine I describe is not completely uniform. It has been evolving since before I started working on this article, and will likely change somewhat once I get back into full-on dissertation writing mode. Its creation resulted from my change in work environments, shifting away from my work habits of the past four years--more if you include my time at Underwood (when I often stayed late to grade) and my undergraduate days (when I often worked at the library), where work and home were kept physically separate spaces, and towards a more unified home-office fusion. It is still, much like my writing, a work in progress.

My exact wakeup time varies, and consequently, the time I start work and everything that comes after must be shifted around accordingly. Moreover, there are days when other activities are on the calendar, such as the pub quiz or, in a more recent addition, Friday afternoon frisbee games. In addition to these pre-scheduled events, every so often I will receive an invitation to a party or what have you, but otherwise I work alone. I dine alone. I read, watch television, and so forth alone. Yesterday was Halloween. I bought candy on the off chance trick or treaters might roam my apartment complex. My conversation with the drug store checkout clerk was the only one I had all day.

Except with you gentle readers.