E-Drama

Amanda Wittman

I've just checked my Facebook one last time before heading to bed. There's a Facebook group called 'Dear Grad School: High School Called, They Want Their Drama Back.' I'm seriously tempted to join it. I'm in the last year of my PhD. I'm supposed to spend my days thinking deep thoughts and writing lucid academic prose. Some days I get to that. Today wasn't one of those days.

I spent the first part of the day on Google chat, trying to work out a good time to see a movie with Tyler. We go way back and I know that he hates committing to anything or anyone (including me) because something better might come up, but today it was particularly frustrating. No, I can't see the movie on Saturday. What part of 'I'm busy all weekend mate!' can't he understand? We've been trying to find a time to see this movie for three weeks. I wanted to tell him to just deal with his stuff and pick a date for cripes' sake.

In the middle of that chat, I got an email from one of the faculty members asking that I help her with webpages. Right Now. Apparently if the departmental strategy pages didn't get updated Right Now, the whole place was going to fall apart. Regardless of the fact that it's summer, no one is around and we are going to have to redo all the webpages to fit with University branding in two months anyway, I headed down to her office with my notebook and best I'm-on-the-bottom-of-the-academic-food-chain-so-will-suck-up-to-you professional air. It turns out that to solve the crisis she needed me to Google some images. I was so glad to use my finely-honed research skills in such a productive manner.

I rolled my eyes as soon as I was out of her office and went back upstairs to email Jack about seeing the movie with me. Screw Tyler anyways. Besides, Jack and I have just become friends and I was thinking that his girlfriend was going to get worried, so it would be good for us all to go out and I can try to prove I'm not any type of threat to her. We've all hung out once before and it was fun, she's a cool chick. But there's new email for me, and it's from Jack's girlfriend. She had friended me earlier in the day on Facebook, so I thought 'Cool. Maybe she's thinking the same thing and we can all go get a drink.' I opened it.

Damn. She's figured out that I'm the girl Jack made out with a few weeks back at an extremely drunken departmental pub night out and she's letting me know that she's not comfortable with Jack and me staying friends. Obviously. Seriously, damn it. I'm not interested in Jack, I never meant to upset anyone, and if I'd known that night he had a girlfriend I sure wouldn't have kissed him. After reading that, and banging my head on the desk a few times, I left the office, went for a walk and ended up in the Labyrinth in George Square. The Spiegel Tent was pulsating in all its glory next to me, but I did find some peace in walking in circles. Note to self, I thought, walking and thinking go well together. Perhaps I should try it when I get stuck on my PhD.

Not that I did anything more with the PhD today. I went back to work and my dad was there on Facebook, asking how the writing's going. I glowered at the wall post for a minute, before replying. Usually I appreciate my father's attempts to check in and make sure that I'm doing all right. But not today, Dad. I hadn't done anything on the PhD and I didn't want to go into details with him about why not. He wouldn't appreciate knowing I was making out with random guys. In his eyes, I'm supposed to be writing a dissertation, not dealing with the repercussions of my social life.

So I extricated myself from a wall-to-wall conversation with him as graciously as I could, spent some time drafting a reply to the girlfriend, and sent it. I immediately got an email back, saying she understands drunken mistakes and believes Jack and me when we both say that we aren't anything but friends, but she doesn't really trust women to be unambiguous about relationships. Christ. This is not about me. This is about her and him and I'm just getting mixed up in their drama. Oh please. But still, it means that now I'm going to have to make some unwelcome decisions about how to deal with Jack.

In between this email exchange, I got an IM from my flatmate. 'Water's dripping in the bathroom, the landlords haven't gotten my new curtains, and the girl we are having stay with us during the Festival hasn't paid her rent.' Knowing Rachel like I do, I know she tends to blow things out of proportion. I reply, saying 'it'll be ok I'll see you at home' and sign off. From everything. From email, Gmail, Google Chat, IM, and Facebook. From Tyler and his commitment phobias. From the faculty and their technological ineptitude. From Jack, his girlfriend and their relationship woes. From my dad and his high expectations. From my flatmate and her crises. From my dissertation and the complete lack of advancement I made on it today.

I went home, spoke with Rachel and curled up with the hottest, milkiest, sweetest tea I could make and Sherlock Holmes. I entered a non-digital world, where my worries don't matter, where people can't get in touch with me and expect immediate responses, where pop up windows don't ruin the page and where I can escape my drama. It was soothing and restful.

But I had to check in one more time, just to see if anything else has happened. Because the reality is that a large part of my world is mediated by technology. Because I won't join the Facebook group, but am glad to know that others out there are dealing with all this kind of stuff too. Because e-drama is part of my life, and because tomorrow I will have to deal with it all again.