Yes, I should be writing properly right now, but it's a Sunday morning and I linger over my blog. It's a common thing to do. But I'm captivated by some deep psychological process as well. Perhaps mentally, I'm still mourning over my old life and my old faculty, and gaining courage and strength to face my new life "in the West". I should probably rewrite my CV to fit the new circumstances and, first of all, the newly acknowledged circumstance that it's all about proper writing. In that monstrous, 40-pages-long CV many things are maintained "just in case", if one day I had to apply for some lesser job. Some time ago, I was mentally preparing to face the risk of my adventure by imagining I might take up some of the lesser schools in Poland later on, and in any case I wouldn't go hungry. But of course this is impracticable even as an emergency solution.
When you face the pinnacle of the crystal mountain, you have to forget the world beneath. Perhaps this is precisely what makes alpinism so exciting. No one will ever care that once I was a member of Komisja Rektorska do spraw programów kształcenia at the University of Warsaw. Even if one day I might become a member of whatever at the University of Amsterdam, it would be preferable to forget my previous experience, or at least keep it safely at bay. Even if apparently it was all about the same, European system. But it has been repeatedly proven that East is East and West is West, and never the twain shall meet...
There is nothing but lots and lots of proper writing in front of me. I would better resign to this without any further delay. Perhaps it's time for the Tribal Wife to get down to that obsession of collecting ball-pens I've already mentioned two or three posts ago... Probably it is just an instinct, like squirrels collecting glands, half knowing that the winter is coming.