Socks

I hate ironing clothes. I only do this in weddings and funerals. For the past 8 years I was reliant to the lovely laundry ladies in my old workplace. I see them in the morning, give them a cheeky request, a big grin, sometimes I dance with them and then, they are happy to sort my clothes for the rest of the day.

I can't iron out the wrinkles from a shirt, I turn it to one side, then a new crease appears. It seemed to be a relentless task. I tried to get away with it, by putting a jumper on. But its not that time of the year yet.

I have to iron another shirt today, I have no choice. I just have to get used to it, or don't wear white shirts as the creases are too obvious.

There seems to have the unspoken rule of wearing shirts in the academia, and I think PhDs are no exemption. It appears to differentiate the undergraduate students from the faculty by the way they look. Things can be obvious with age among others, but this is not really applicable to me. Bartenders still ask for my ID, before serving me drinks and sometimes I have to prove my identity to get into adult clubs. I think I certainly look over 21, but I suppose when I go to the staff room later, I don't want to receive a "who are you, and what are you doing here-look", when it is my first day in the faculty building.

So, I wore another white shirt today, black fitted jeans (not skinny), dog-tooth patterned jacket, and black loafers with white ties. It was gloomy day forecast, so I wore yellow socks to represent the sun.

My plan today was to set up my desk and workstation. My supervisor was very thoughtful to provide some stationary, including a set of multi-coloured highlighter pens. I can't live without highlighters. Neon yellow is my favourite, other colours can play a supporting part.

I also brought my own stationary. They were colour coordinated with the theme of purple and silver stars. My file organisers, folders, desk planner and notebooks- everything is printed with "hopes, dreams and wishes."

I decided to get my computer wallpaper in sync too, "Believe in your dreams."

I'm getting "at home" with my new office. Now, I need a plant in a pot, maybe a better chair and nice things to look at. It's funny how our workstation is like the extension of home, of our comforts.
Just like what I discovered when I cleared the desk cabinets earlier, the previous occupant has left behind a jar of oil, green tea matcha powder, toilet roll and a pair of thin black socks. I can imagine that person appears to be current, likes to try new food trends and either has sweaty feet or wears worn-out shoes.

There was hardly anyone in our office today, I like silence when I am working. As I can only argue with my thoughts and don't want to be distracted by anyone else.

Later, I met another  PhD candidate, my neighbour. His desk is behind me, he was looking for his stuff as soon as he got in, I had to apologise as I store his box of clinical apparatus in the far corner of the room. He apologised back, as he said he aims to move it, as this was situated within my personal work space. To be honest I didn't know it was his, I thought it was from the person who left, and left their socks behind.

We engaged in conversations, the type of conversation that happens with people that we need to get-along. It was pleasant. He is on his second year, he told me about his study, his teaching subjects and field work. Then we moved on to personal interests. He is new to Liverpool. I asked him if he likes the city? He answered "Uhhmm, yes?!". I questioned the hesitation.
He said, he easily gets bored, he usually moves address every two years. Then he said, "I have no choice, maybe when the research project is over." He said he doesn't mind living in the city, but this soon quickly fades. He prefers the countryside.

He offered some practical advice, including help if I need any. That was kind of him. He also accounted the profile of other people that share in our room, including their work schedules and an overview of their research subjects. That was good to know. A room of diverse health science researchers.

He soon excused himself to eat his canned soup in a red plastic cup, he went to heat it up in the microwave located in the staff room. I carried on reading for sometime, until I realised it was almost 3pm, and my belly is still empty aside from the 3 cups of black coffee since this morning.  After sorting my workshop schedules and diary for the rest of the month, I took my lunch out of my holdall, and head to the staff room.

I met a few people there, all filling their cups with hot water. 3pm breaks I assume, all work place at this time of the day is busy. The time of the day teetering between "I need to finish deadlines or put it off until tomorrow". Caffeine and sugar become mid-afternoon saviours.
Like a new kid in the block, almost everyone I encountered asked my name and where I am based. I have to tell them the whole script. I have no choice, I couldn't escape them.

They seem interested, one was particularly intrigued with my packed lunch."That looks very healthy!"she said, then curiously asked: "What is it?"

I was particularly known for my odd food combination at my old workplace, so I think I have to get used to these questions again. I had broccoli, walnuts, lettuce, figs, linseed, mixed pulses and 2 boiled eggs in a plate. That was my choice.

As I end my day in my new workstation, I begin to wonder: "Does our daily lives hang on the equilibrium of choices?"

Situations that left me with no-choice: iron my clothes, clean other peoples' mess and explain my food.

Today, I chose to wear yellow socks.
I choose to believe in my dreams...