Sanctuary

"Angry words and honking cars
Satellites and falling stars
Distant dark blue radios that whisper down my boulevard
Ghosts and chains rattle in the attic
Broken headphones filled with static
Lonely room, you've got nowhere to run"
- "American Noise" by Skillet

There are so many things on my mind right now, I barely even know where to start. I've been back in Oregon all week, but today was the first time I actually made it to the lab. I definitely needed a few days to myself, and even though I got a lot of rest the last few days in San Diego, my body apparently needed more. I learned several important things about myself in Norway, and one of them was the importance of a regular routine and sufficient sleep. I'm so much more productive - and emotionally stable! - when properly rested.

All moved into my desk at OIMB! Notice the tattered
lander flag on the wall. 

I promised myself that this time around, I would make Oregon as much like Norway as possible. My apartment in Oregon is my sanctuary, my place of silence and rest, and I intend to preserve that personal space as much as I can. I also promised myself that I would minimize disruptions in my work day, because if there's one thing I learned from working at IRIS, it's how ridiculously productive I can be when left undisturbed. I know I'll still get interrupted occassionally by my labmate, by my adviser, by the various undergraduates that come to me for help, but I've set up a work space that will allow me to focus. We'll see how it works.

When I go to work on Monday, I'm going to try biking there, because biking to work was one of my favorite things about life in Norway. Having a regular exercise routine is crucial for my physical and mental health, and frankly, I just miss it.

I actually spent most of the day today catching up with friends and fellow students. My institute over here, the Oregon Institute of Marine Biology (OIMB), is a really small campus, so everyone knows each other. I got joyful hugs from my closest friends, heartfelt acknowledgements from rest, and only one look of sheer terror. When I marched up to the OIMB workshop, the man that I spent last summer asking for favor after favor after favor saw me coming through the window, swung open the door, and called to the others "Look out! She's back!" I promised not to fill his calendar with too many construction projects this summer, and we actually chatted for quite a while. It's good to be back.