i am feeling bitter about academic pressure and collegiality today. i like to think i am usually an organised and timely person. but sometimes life happens and work is not the mostbatshitimportant priority in life. academic deadlines are rarely life-or-death situations.

i am surrounded by amazing, empathetic, understanding colleagues/friends who practice care as a system. they are v good humans who are flexible and accommodate all of life's curveballs. we try our best. we get by with the help of our friends.

but i am sometimes also surrounded by people who are antsy and anxious, and for whom changes to a pre-fixed schedule or agreed deadline feel like absolute travesties. working with this group is often very demoralizing.

i am suddenly remembering that the month after my sister died, someone pressured me to co-write a paper cos a journal was interested in it. they texted me reminders daily, and i worked consecutive nights to get it done. four years later, said paper is still sitting on their desk.

last week while debriefing w my academic soulmate, they said they would no longer work with anyone who couldn't accept that they are already "doing things at 100% commitment". i resonate with this and approach the world believing that everyone is already working at capacity.

as i wade through what feels like endless grief and a string of family medical emergencies, i am committing to heart the very gentle responses from collaborators who know how to be human, and reminding myself to similarly respond with tact and care to others who may need it.

we may feel self-important or indispensable, or that deadlines/schedules are do-or-die, or that we love what we do very much. the structure of our industry conditions this, esp when we are often alone/moving frequent for a job. but at the end of the day, academia is just a job.

take care of yourself, take care of each other. resist overwork culture, resist unhealthy pressure. protect your personal time, protect your wellbeing. academia is just a job and we (can) have entire lives outside of it.