research is fun - i get to go inside strangers houses, hook them up to machines, be bossy and tell them what to do for three hours, kick their kids out, lock their pets in closets, play with cameras and laptops and other machines that i don't know the names of. i get to wear dorky polo shirts and khaki pants. i get to drive around seattle and oooh and ahh at all the glorious little houses. i get to act like a stalker - with a purpose. i get to spend all this time with other hyper-over-achievers. i get to see my professors act like normal people.
but here are a few things i didn't exactly expect when i applied for a research position:
for every two hours i'm with a family, i pay them more than i make in a week.
while the family completes their little video-discussion tasks, i wait outside the front door - no matter how much it's raining. . .or how freezing it is. . .or how much i forgot my shoes when i stepped outside. . . oh, and i can't throw things at their poor dog that's trying to break its chain and bite off my head.
no matter what, the interview goes on. that means that while the whole family is having a screaming-match, i get to politely tell them which questions they missed and instruct, "i need you to go over this section one more time." that also means that i can't decide i've had enough of this irresponsible teenager when she won't listen to us after six times of telling her to turn off her phone and put it away. i also can't take the phone, thus i become the broken record.
"please turn off your cell phone."
"during this portion, you can't have your phone with you."
"while you complete the questionnaire, you are not permitted to text on your phone."
"we would appreciate your compliance with our policy not to answer your cell phone while we are in your home unless it's an emergency."
your friends at the mall are not considered emergencies.
if i can't talk to my boyfriend while i'm in your home, you can't talk to yours either. believe me, i feel your pain.
no, really. turn off your darn phone.
being a researcher also means that i have to say things to my supervisor like, "yes, that entire section of data is unusable. see, i wasn't aware that the monitors were marked differently than i was used to before i was in the home. yes, it's my fault."
being a researcher means that i probably don't have time to take care of my basic human needs. thus, my hair will be scary for the next few months, i will not be wearing makeup, i haven't done laundry in weeks, i've been living off oatmeal for several days because i don't have time to grocery shop, and i fall asleep while talking on the phone and wake up in the middle of the night only to realize i'm still in my uniform, still have my contacts in, and haven't set my alarm for the morning. it means i don't expect to ever fully unpack. it means i'm cutting down my to-read list and scratching things off my summer-to-do list. not because i've read and done them, but because i'm now aware it's just not going to happen.
and now that it looks like i've ranted sufficiently, i just have to say that i really do love my job. i love to see all different dynamics of family life and work with other crazy-like-minded people. i do. i may not love the screaming family, but their barking dog sure was gorgeous.
i'm getting really, REALLY good at leaving voice-messages.
i'm not scared to call random people i don't know.
i have a queen bed, so i don't feel squished when i fall asleep with paperwork all over my bed.
i'm learning - a lot.
oh, and the exciting fact of the day is that i get to see the musician again in seven days! that's right - seven. which practically makes up for the barking dog and screaming family.
seven!
and counting.
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