Britt's Blog

First things first: HUGE THANKS to Dan, Scott & Laurie, Howard, and John & JP Hayes for help moving! You guys all rock, and we are so very grateful for your help and good spirits.

The Pod departed this morning.

We got things cleaned up and packed the car, and John and JP carted unspeakable amounts of crap to the Tompkins County Solid Waste Center.

We doped up the cat, and jumped into the car and took off around 3. We then proceeded to impliment our Clever Plan, which was to get to Ohio, and find a pet-friendly hotel to check into for the night. I had already done my research, consulting petswelcome.com to find pet-friendly chains.

The Clever Plan got off to a moderately rocky start when we crossed the border to Ohio, and realized that the list was packed underneath some stuff. (Everything in the car is packed underneath other stuff. It seems topologically impossible, but I assure you, it is true.) So we stopped a the first Ohio rest stop to dig the list out. While visiting the facilities, I found a handy-dandy Ohio Travel Coupon Guide, which, awesomely enough, had hotels listed by interstate. Based on petswelcome’s libelous insinuation that Comfort Inn & Suites was pet-friendly, I pulled out ye olde trusty cell phone and tried the first Comfort Inn, which a) Did not allow pets and b) Was full.

Bastards!

However, in the handy-dandy OTCG (as I like to call it), we found an ad for a Super 8 that said Pets Welcome! Yee haw, we’re in business. We called for a reservation, and we were all set.

Then we approached the exit. Which was, naturally, in the middle of a construction zone. In about the right place, we saw signs for an exit to some highway… but the highway number meant nothing to us, and there was no actual exit number and we thought, surely if this was our exit, there would have to be an exit number on the signage, right? But as we blew past at 70 mph, we saw, that as the temporary exit wound off off in the hazy distance, it did eventually connect up with our exit number.

Frustrating, but a minor problem, right? As we were taught by our driver’s ed instructors in high school, we went on to the next exit so we could turn around and head back and catch the exit from the other direction. But, as we exited the freeway we found…

*drumroll*

A huge ugly accident. Firetrucks, police cars, the K-9 unit, flares, and a small car filled with circus clowns. The whole nine yards.

We asked an officer on the scene for directions, and this is where we get down on our knees and thanked the Powers That Be for placing the Global Positioning System in the sky, because the detour was scary, long, dark, and, of course, unmarked.

But, by the grace of GPS, we found our way back onto the highway and back to the right exit and found our hotel.

Despite having been so plastered that she lay down in the small water bowl we put in her cat carrier and got her tummy all wet, Susan has come down off the drugs, and after hiding in the recliner (trust our cat, Feline Genius, to find the least safe place in the room to hide in) she has finaly begun to slink about. Remember, Susan’s Rule of New Places #1: If your belly is never more than 1.5 inches off the floor, nothing bad can possibly happen to you.

Our Pod was delivered today, and it was one of the coolest demonstrations of 21st century techonology that I have personally witnessed.

The truck backs up. (You’ll have to imagine it going “BEEEEE BEEEE BEEEE BEEEE”)

The hydraulic frame is deployed.

The pod is lifted off the truck bed.

The truck drives off.

The Pod is lowered safely to the ground.

The frame is wheeled away, to be returned to the truck bed.

Heh. Heh-heh. Heh-heh. Hydraulics are cool.

According to Scott Berkun, there are two kinds of people: complexifiers and simplifiers. I’m down with the basic concept, with the caveat that there is a continuum between the two extremes, except that the author then boils it down to something as simple as complexification bad, simplification good.

If you know me, I think you’ll agree that I’m a simplifier far more than a complexifier, but check out the description of the simplifier. Do does this sound like me?

*cough* Yuh. In my dreams.

When I’m simplifying at my best, I say to myself Argh! This complex problem needs to be simplified! Let me break it down into smaller subprojects where possible, identify the most important pieces, and attack them.

At my worst, I say Argh! This complex problem is too much for my brain to handle! I know, I’ll just focus in on one simple part of the problem that I’m confident I can handle, then leap to another simple bit, then another, then another like a lemur on crystal meth, meanwhile completely ignoring the hairy parts. Yeah, that trick always works!

Unless I fight my natural tendencies, I’m a short-cut-seeker, a glosser-over-of-details and a critical-task-forgetter. All in all, I think I could use a nudge toward the complexifying end of the spectrum.

Being a complexifier can be costly, in terms of being inefficient and, well, to be honest, a pain in the butt (c’mon, we all know and love some people that are pushing that end of the continuum), but there are also benefits in being thorough, exploring the full landscape of a problem creatively, and being the sort of person who can manage a great deal of detail.

In other words, it takes all sorts, and a complexifier and a simplifier working together can make a great team.

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“This combination of chemical plus molecular cyanide is stupid. We’re going in the wrong direction. You’re the only one who knows how to use this garbage, and you’re never here. And finally, I think I’m getting brain-fried.”

– Mitch to Chris
Real Genius

I use Neil Fiore’s unschedule from The Now Habit to track how much time I spend focused on work, and it turns out this week I have spent 37 hours working on my thesis. Not checking my email, not browsing important, work-related webpages, not discussing important topics with colleagues, not photocopying papers, not realphabetizing my files, just focused work on my thesis. (If 37 hours doesn’t sound like an unreasonable amount of work to you, try using the unschedule and see how many hours of actual work you do in a normal week. It’s an interesting exercise…)

Dr. Fiore recommends that one spend no more than 20 hours a week on one project.

I can now state from experience that Dr. Fiore has good reasons for saying this.

My brain is fried.

Correction: This morning, when I finally finished the write-up of the last actual science section of my thesis, my brain was fried. And I went off to a well-deserved viewing of Clerks II with J.

Then I went back to the lab this evening to spiff up some graphs and print out a copy for my advisor. Now my brain is … I dunno … refried.

But, hey, a blog’s gotta start somewhere, and an altered state of consciousness is probably as good as any! So, here it is! Many thanks to Jason for getting me the awesome URL and setting up WordPress! And welcome to all visitors!

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