Outside: January night and a beautiful sky. Once in a while, I see people walk quickly by down the dimly lit street, head down, hoods up. Take away the 21st century crotch-hugging jeans and I imagine it's exactly like people walking around hundreds of years ago. Hooded Robin Hoods or cut-throats.

Inside, I've put my back out sitting at my laptop all weekend. Deadlines. One week into the new year and the work week has finally dragged me out of my harmonious New Year weekend and straight into a panicky tailspin of deadlines, research proposals, research projects and a sickening sense that I could work all day and all night and not make so much as a dent in the load.

This is something that I need to get my head around, and soon. During the thesis, I was entirely comfortable with the idea of being uncomfortable sitting in a chair until my back hurt, feeling stressed about deadlines and living on toast. Is one meant to graduate from this when one graduates into full-fledged academia?

For now, it's probably enough that when I sit down to work all my cells and all my senses magically snap into place and I entirely fall into its arms willingly, peacefully and happily. As long as that keeps happening, I guess I have breathing space in which to craft a happy way to be.