I’ve had surprisingly little to say these past few days.

I don’t know — I’ve been stuck in a sort of limbo.

There’s a lot I’m worried about. Most of all, I just don’t feel ready to start my doctoral research. There’s so many topics in math I’m supposed to be better acquainted with. And this summer (like all summers) was supposed to be an opportunity for me to bang out these dents.

It started out well. June and July were right on schedule. But now with August winding down, I’ve realized I haven’t really been on the ball this month. As I’ll be starting in September, there’s little chance for me to pick it up now. In the next few weeks, I’ll have to find a way to get my head back into the game.

But these next two weeks are sure not to disappoint.

Funny how I’ve had quite a few friends call me these past few days, asking to see if I’d care to have lunch or a drink before I hit the road.

I had no idea I owed so many people money.

I’m also not quite ready to let go of Ottawa.

After living here my whole life, there’s so many memories I have attached to this small city.

Anyways, I’m not ready to go all weepy-eyed on you guys. Not yet, anyways

*yawn*

4 AM here. Flying back now.

See you back in Canada. Fuck I’m tired of airline food.

Tomorrow, I’m spending a day at Oxford University.

Sorting things out, discussing future topics with my soon-to-be supervisor, watching the annual cricket match between the Applied Math and the Computer Science departments.

No joke.

So before I sign off for the night, I have to figure out:

1. How to get to Oxford,
2. How I’ll find the math department,
3. Review things I’d like to discuss, and
4. Find out how cricket is played.

“If they ask you to play,” advised my (former) supervisor, “just swing”.

I’m actually pretty nervous about this first meeting. Suffice it to say, I’ll be meeting with one of the superstars of Applied Math (not only in Britain, but all over the world), and I think the potential to make a real dick of myself is pretty substantial.

But it’s not only my performance which is being put to the test. What if we don’t get along? The relationship between doctoral student and supervisor pretty much dictates not only whether you’re going to be graduating with a Ph.D., but also whether you’re going to be successful 10 years down the line.

There are horror stories abound of students not getting along with their supervisors (for whatever reason) and essentially obliterating their careers then and there.

So yeah, I’m pretty worked up.

Oh, and yeah, I know about the whole wet situation up there.

Honestly, I’m more worried about making a fool of myself than I am about drowning.

Every morning, a cleaning lady comes into my room, makes the bed, replaces the towels, empties the trash bin, and cleans up the room.

I can’t decide whether I like the convenience or hate the intrusion.

In any case, it’s become less of a convenience lately, as I’ve been trying and clean up before leaving in the morning — so as not to embarrass myself.

After a six hour flight, a 40 minute bus ride from Heathrow to Reading, and quick cab ride to the University…

“This might not be so bad after all,” I thought to myself as I gazed over my home for the next week.

From left to right:
(1) Towels and a complimentary pack
(2) Complimentary instant coffee, creme, sugar, and cups I pilfered from the shared kitchen [Yeah, I know, I know. I’m going to hell]
(3) Blazing fast internet connection
(4) Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Re-reading in preparation. My copy of the seventh and final is still being shipped from Amazon.com. Anybody that spoils it for me is going to get the axe.

(Not shown: A door leading to my toilet, sink, shower)

Since things don’t really get started until this evening when we all convene for dinner, I’ve got half a day to myself.

I’m going to take a quick shower, have a protein shake, then see if I can find the local grocery shops to buy some food.