I'm just a little black rain cloud

August 25

Just about 3 weeks left here in Taytay.  For much of today, I was in the sort of mood that sees that as a comfort. 

Maybe it’s the fatigue remaining after being sick.  Maybe it’s the oppressive, grey weather.  But I’m in one of those leaden funks.  Started early this morning – early morning seems to breed a feeling of... smallness... in me.  The lonely clarity of the cell phone alarm, ringing through the still darkness of the pre-dawn morning, jolting me out of blissful sleep.  I felt alone, cold, lost.  I pined for San Diego, for the comfort of my parents' home.  A blustery, howling storm passed through Taytay last night, and the cool air and splatterings of rain blowing through my window left me feeling tired and insignificant.

View of the Taytay sign from down by the fortress

It must be the exhaustion, because I can think of no other reason why I was anything other than enthusiastic about the prospect of my first morning on the water looking for 'waddies (Irrawaddy dolphins).  Though the fisher interviews have been going very well, my favorite fieldwork has been and probably will always be watching non-human beings, getting lost in their world and feeling a very spiritual connection with these other living creatures (ha, I'm such a dolphin-hugger...).  It's more than just the scientific questions, which I of course find fascinating (especially when it comes to social behavior and habitat use by individuals); it's more than being driven by a conservation ethic.  At the heart of it, I "just really think they're neat", to quote Jeremy Jackson.

We had no luck with the 'waddies today, unfortunately - I'm sure a good day on the water would've done wonders for my spirit.  But the weather hadn't shaped up yet, and the waters were dark and choppy.  My mood was dark and choppy.  I'm ready to curl up in the fetal position and sleep.  After data entry.  Tedious, tedious data entry.

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Raining, raining, raining…I've been sitting here in my room, just relaxing and listening to the pitter-pattering of raindrops on the roof, and my blerghness is falling away, precipitating downward to the sea, mixed in with all that makes up my life but no longer weighing me down in sullen grey.