The Idea Factory

I could go on and on about the greatness of my job. You know the shtick - freedom, flexibility, dynamic topics, being surrounded with smart and interesting people etc. It's one of those greatest-jobs-on-earth, and so on, but with opportunity comes responsibility. Or is it power?

That's why my sometimes secret role model is the post-it note guy. Art Fry. You know, the guy that thought up post-it notes for 3M, using a failed adhesive. That dude's cool. Anyone that thinks of something as simple as altering small pieces of paper so they can be quickly affixed to almost any surface is AWEsome.

When your job is to study stuff, you're trying to understand the world enough to create an ideological or scientific post-it note. You want to find something that changes the way the world works and make a tangible difference to people's lives. Regardless of the work you do, the hope of your funders, supervisors, faculty and yourself is that, somewhere, deep inside your brain, is the next post-it note.

This quest for the next post-it note is also one of the snags of the job. It's daunting. As a perpetual trainee, I always knew that eventually, at one point in my training and ultimately, my career, I'd be asked to come up with one of those snappy ideas. Something new and innovative, maybe building on something that failed in the past, or creating something from the ground up.

Now, after all these years and all my pontificating, I need to start searching out my own ideas. Alas, this is the purpose of a post-doc. As I now embark on a new chapter in my life - the idea chapter - you're likely to find me splayed over my office chair, staring at the ceiling and trying to find one small idea that could make me academically rich. I may not look like I'm working, but I am. After all, in his book Reality Check (2008), the wise Guy Kawasaki suggests that:

"Everyone can put in a seventy-hour work week. It doesn't mean you're doing good work. So here's an idea: make sure you're not the hardest worker. Take a long lunch. Get all your work done early. Grand thinking requires space, flexibility, and time. So let people see you staring at the wall. They'll know you're a person with big ideas. Taking time to think makes you more valuable."

Long lunches, staring at the wall and time. Valuable, indeed.

Photo 'Idea's Interrupted' by Capture Queen

What I Think About When I Think About Spinning

Along with a skinny friend (for motivation), The Husband and I started spin classes a few months ago. We'd stopped running over the summer (injuries) and were looking for something similar - but different. Skinny friend and I did a month of bootcamp and he did some yoga, but still, we were looking for something sustainable, accessible and relatively affordable. Enter spin class.

I love spin class. And I hate it. Totally hate it. Today, as we were suffering through a particularly tough class, I looked over at The Husband and we exchanged worried glances - we weren't sure we could take another hill - and I wondered why we do this to ourselves.

It's like this every time we do a spin class, we always think that this will be the class that finally does us in. Except that today, after class, I had an epiphany. For the first time, I think I finally understood why we spin.

Here's what I think about when I'm not at spin class:

• I'm bored.
  
• Is that a hangnail?
  
• When was that ethics deadline again? I should google that.
  
• When should I start recruiting for those focus groups? Tomorrow? Next week?
  
• When is the abstract deadline for that conference? I should google that.
  
• What should I have for dinner? I wonder if The Husband will eat a crock pot dinner for the third time this week?
• When should academics have kids? I should google that.
• I wonder what Tom Cruise is up to lately? I should google that.
• I really like peas. I should eat more peas. I wonder if I can find a recipe that uses peas. I should google that.
  

According to The CEO of Me, I'm an 'integrator' because my personal life crosses over into my professional life - I often don't think about work when I'm thinking about work. As a matter of fact, when I start to think about work, I usually get a strong urge to think about something more interesting, like celebrity gossip. I really like celebrity gossip, and sometimes, I really do care what Daniel Craig might be up to between Bond movies. Thankfully, I'm a 'fusion-loving integrator' so this is perfectly okay. If, for example, I was a 'separator' who liked to separate my two lives, then this would not be okay. See?

So, what do I think about when I'm spinning?

• If I pass out, will I slip off this bike elegantly, or will I fall on the sweaty chick next to me?
• If I sneak out the door to throw up, will anyone notice?
• I think I really fooled in the instructor when I fake turned up my resistance knob on the bike. Crap. She noticed.

Ultimately, I realized that when I'm at work I think about too many things. When I'm in spin class, I can't think about anything, and that's why I love spin class.

On that note, now that I've shamelessly ripped off the title of Murakami's latest book, I think I'll sit down and try to read about what he talks about when he talks about running. Maybe, just maybe, I'll manage to think about the book. Or perhaps I'll check in at The Superficial, The Husband's favorite gossip blog, and catch up on celebrity drug scandals.

Photo by vrogy