Summer

The conference went well. All issues that arose were sorted. The talks were great, and I learned about a lot of cool things happening in my world of work.

The weather was cool, a bit rainy. Several people told me they had expected Melbourne to be warmer in the summer. But I told them it is Melbourne and summer weather is variable.

Sunday, however, the sky was finally clear and the air warmed up. We walked to the Botanic gardens and watched the birds.

And I watched the sky. Below is an actual sky photo.

Today it is even warmer. Shorts and t-shirts and sandals and maybe the beach later today. Tim and I went to the market this morning and bought a lot of fruit, and some sausages to grill in the park. There were a lot of people in the market early in the morning on Christmas Eve.

This is exactly the weather I hoped for on Christmas when we moved to the Southern hemisphere. We maybe should have picked a warmer city to guarantee warmer Christmases. But this year, the weather is looking just right.

Conference

I know that I have not been writing frequently, and I know that you are desperately missing my considered and thoughtful commentary on my boring life. I know that. And yet even knowing that I still haven't been writing.

That is because I have been Stressed Out.

Two nights ago, I dreamed I was walking on the side of a massively rushing river. The rapids were huge, and the water was swollen to the very edges of its banks. The river was on my left. And then on my right, I noticed that I was walking past a building, and through the windows of the building I could see that the water was also rushing inside. And then as I walked further, the windows strained and cracked, and the water crashed down to sweep me into the huge rapids and Certain Death. I woke up.

For more than a year, I have been planning and organising a conference to be held at my university. My co-organisers and I have written grant proposals, invited speakers, evaluated applications for funding, send myriads of letters, collected abstracts, posted schedules, designed websites, ordered catering, booked rooms, re-booked different rooms when the preferred rooms went offline for AV upgrades, arranged accommodation, dealt with last-minute cancellations of accommodation. It hasn't been difficult, but it has been a huge mental load -- lots of little things to remember to do.

And tomorrow, the conference starts. Tomorrow!

Last night I dreamed that I was setting up for the first talk, and people just kept coming into the room. All the chairs were taken. Standing room in the back was taken. People were crowding around the door. There was no space. I had to run out and try to book a larger room at the very last minute. I woke up before the arrangements were made.

My conscious brain is doing just fine. I handle the tasks one by one as they arise. I make last minute funding decisions off-the-cuff (sure we'll pay for that taxi, that extra night of airport hotel). I get others to do a lot of the hard work (A. has saved my life by making all the accommodation arrangements, and yesterday J. and S. spared me an hour by assembling the portable whiteboards, and thanks so much to D. for organising the talk abstracts!). My conscious brain is handling it.

My subconscious brain is clearly not handling this conference organisation thing at all. It thinks I will be dragged under the river.

I've decided I'm just going to wait it out. In a little over a week, the actual conference will be over.

Of course, then I'll be dealing with conference finances throughout January and February.

Maybe the next time I talk about organising something like this, you should talk me out of it.