10 Things I Learned in 2013

You live and learn. At least, I live and learn. Here are ten things I lived and learned this past year.

1. How to dress like a grown-up.

I gave away all articles of clothing that didn’t fit me properly, that were stained or torn, or that I never wore. No matter how much I liked them. I put plenty of my budget aside for tall-size sweaters and long-sleeved blouses. I bought a drying rack and an iron. And formal shoes that I like. And enough basics that I don’t have to wear things two days in a row. I bought actual running clothes for the gym that make it easier not to overheat, and I got swimsuits whose elastic doesn’t sag. Phew. Enough growing up for a while.

2. How to arrange the spaghetti so it all goes into the pot while it cooks without me having to break it into smaller pieces first.

You know, like the third photo here. Totally copped it by observing my friend Liz. Thanks, Liz!

3. How to take care of myself without being selfish.

Otherwise known as: it’s OK not to do someone a favour because I can’t deal with it right then. It’s OK to make sure I’m OK before I make sure someone else is OK. I have a responsibility to other people to take care of myself properly, because if I don’t, then they’ll have to. To help others most effectively and consistently, I need to be in a good place myself, which sometimes means putting myself first.

4. Using the treadmill is kind of fun.

I’m not supposed to go on the treadmill too much, because I have arthritic knees, and treadmills can further damage them. I have to admit, I was also warier of treadmills than of other gym machines because they seem to have a much, um, higher comedy potential for observers watching the uninitiated.

But one day, I went down to my building’s gym to discover the dreaded “OUT OF ORDER” sign on the elliptical. Woe! After tearing my hair out, I discovered that using the treadmill more accurately mimics the activity for which I’m trying to build my strength and endurance: running at ball hockey. It feels a lot more “relevant” than the stuff I used to do on the elliptical, and I don’t have to force myself to speed up for intervals — the machine changes the speed for me. I just need to know my (knees’) limits and plan the frequency and duration of my treadmill sessions accordingly. All in all, it’s a positive experience.

(Except for thing-I-learned 4a: stepping off the treadmill is in no way like stepping off the elliptical.)

5. Electric toothbrushes are magic.

Tooth-cleaning magic. Evanesco, teeth!

6. How to use a mini George Foreman grill.

In fact, there’s a formula. Flat buns + cheese + toppings (apple, turkey bacon, pesto, tomato, whatever) + mini George Foreman = GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH MAGIC.

7. Asking for help is hard, but it’s important.

Talking about asking for help is still harder for me than actually asking for help. Let’s just go with: I went through a rough patch in the spring, and what made some of it even rougher was feeling like my friends and boyfriend didn’t care. But then I realized that I couldn’t expect them to care if I didn’t, you know, tell them I was going through a rough patch and needed some support. And then they did care and were supportive. The end.

8. How to box.

I suspect I’m a much better boxer in my head than in the ring because no matter how bad you are, getting to wear boxing gloves and hand wraps makes you feel the other kind of bad, like the kind that wears a leather jacket and rides a motorcycle and probably beats up the sneering Soviet eighties villain. Regardless, I love taking lessons here.

9. How to mark a paper effectively and efficiently.

For a long time, I gave students way more feedback on their work than most of them want/need. This semester, for the first time, I tried to follow what I learned were best practices: give students a few key points to focus on so they understand their mark but aren’t overwhelmed. Since that’s what most students want anyway, it avoids wasted effort, and it leaves me more time to give really detailed feedback to the few students who do ask for it. It also lets me handle the marking load for seven courses without sacrificing quality of marking or turnaround time.

10. Planning for the life I should want isn’t the same as planning for the life I do want.

For a long time, I felt like there were certain academic achievements that I needed to reach, because that’s what academics do. Because I figured I had to do these things, I just assumed that I wanted to.

But when booting up MS Word to work toward those lofty goals gave me the same heaviness in my stomach as sitting down to eat a bowl of sand, I remembered:

1) I like the academic job I currently have, and

2) I want to write novels, stories, and plays

I’m lucky: I have a job I like and am good at that gives me time to write before and after work. And I’m going to stop wasting that good fortune.

There’s zero point in putting all  my energy into plotting ambitious career goals that aren’t actually my passion. Instead, I will stop feeling guilty about not shooting for a “better” position than I have when my work suits me and my actual career goals just fine.