Drowning in Regret: A Sad Tale of Naivete and Idealism (or How We Refused to be "Mercenaries")

(I began this post on 4/13/09, but never finished it. I decided to go back to it after today's earlier post. I may not be able to capture my feelings from back then fully since now I'm much more hopeless and sarcastic, but I will try to recapture the reasoning that made me give it this pathetically long title. I promise that it will make some sense in the end.)

Original 09 opening:
We have this saying in Brazil that goes, "Se arrependimento matasse... eu já estaria morto." Something like, "If regret killed, I would be dead by now." Well, yeah, we would. Not that I think we made the completely wrong decisions, but perhaps the timing of the decision was not right in this particular case.

I am about to share something that K initially didn't want to share with anyone (he hasn't even told his parents because he wants to spare them for now -- he later did), but I've already talked about it with most of our closest friends (and I did call my parents the very next day). I just cannot help it. Sharing helps ease the pain.

You may, or may not remember, that after the initial and devastating shock of October 31st, 2007 (when K lost his job after having it for only 2 months, on the very same day he mailed the first mortgage payment), he was re-hired, albeit "temporarily," with a review of the group due on November 08. He had already found another job, a postdoc position, but let that go, obviously. Work didn't go well for him at big pharma, though, the projects his group was trying to tackle never took off, and he found himself frustrated and feeling that he was wasting his time doing basically nothing (in retrospect, now we know that it must be something fairly common in industry jobs, that's why many people, including academics, find industry so outrageous, but we were too naive and "idealistic" to see that at the time, but more on that later).

In June 08, we went to Brazil and he didn't get the tenure track position he had applied and competed for -- which was good, because we were not sure we wanted to go back to Brazil. After that experience, which included a surreal event in which one of the professors in the hiring committee told him that one position he had applied for in the past but then decided not to interview for had not been filled and that he was the candidate they wanted. (That was an "alternate reality"/ Back to the Future type of experience that felt very strange and kind of sad, knowing what could have been, but never was -- if you're curious, I can elaborate more in the comment section, oh, and we kept this information from our parents, fearing they might get too upset -- they still kind of don't know, hope they don't find out from this post. 2/8/10).

When he came back to the U.S., K contacted the professor who had the postdoc position back in November 07 and found out that he still had the position (Feb. 2010 edit: what we didn't know back then was that the professor is somewhat of a slacker, that's why he hadn't hired anyone. He also took a long time to apply for grants and that's why K's job has to end on August/10). So, after thinking long and hard about this and having been encouraged (or, rather, almost persuaded)* to quit by his boss, who reassured his that his prospects in the industry were not very good decided to quit his job, that by now [Feb. '10] was temporary, up for review in November 08.

[Continuing on February 2010]
The thing is, before going to Brazil for the concurso (tt job competition), K had gone to a conference in Boston where he met his boss (who lived England). At that meeting, the boss encouraged him to take a new job if he found one and explained that -- from his point of view -- K was getting too old for a career in the industry. THAT IS, assuming that in industry everyone wants and needs to climb up quickly to management, since apparently when you're 50 you're kind of stuck or whatever and you have to be up in the ladder. He made the whole reasoning saying that K would have to climb "one step" of the ladder per year to be in the boss's position when he was 45, or something. (Why would everyone want that, I wonder).

[ridiculous number of parenthetical remarks ahead, but I'll leave it as is.]
Then, there's the "academic side" of this story. Academics (those in the sciences and engineering at least) generally loathe industry folks because "they don't know anything" [ETA 2/12/10: this statement bothered a reader, see comment here, and I responded in this comment] (after his two first months there, K tended to agree, but he's not so sure now) and fellow academics whom K met during that year all commented in derisive terms of his decision to work for the industry. This, coupled with his dissatisfaction about the uncertainty of work and plain lack of work, made him reconsider his decision to continue on the job. This and one key issue, or lack thereof: whereas in academia K had plenty of role models, mentors and all the knowledge he needed to succeed (he just knew what he had to do from years of doing it), in the industry he did NOT! He had no mentors whatsoever and, most importantly -- he didn't know the ins and outs of industry jobs (that was as big problem, he learned too late)! He knew one devastating truth: these jobs were UNCERTAIN. He was permanently scarred from being laid off two months after starting. That did it. Academia meant certainty and gave him a feeling of security, of knowing what he was doing and where he was going to get, whereas he felt unsettled and uncomfortable working in the industry. Oh, and I almost forgot, there's one more thing that is really important. If he took to long to return to the academic environment (particularly because he is an experimentalist) he would never be able to go back. Academically, he had already wasted one year of his life, with no publications, research, nothing (and that, I must say is hurting him now, most certainly!). So, it was a either "now or never" moment in his life. The moment in which he had to decide what, in his heart of hearts, mattered most for him. What he wanted to do with his life. So, academia it was.

And since the professor still had the job (seven months later! It looked like a "sign" for K, really [ha ha, only a sign that his future boss was a bit too slow]) and K was all but certain that he'd be laid off again in November when his group, which was doing nothing and accomplishing nothing, would undergo a review (remember he'd he'd been re-hired in a temporary position), he decided to take the leap.

And take a 60% paycut. With a mortgage that was half his monthly pay at the industry, and credit card debt from the home renovations.

The plan was to put the house on the market immediately and move,** but we were unable to finish the renovations (with K's new 3 hour daily commute and me starting to work at Kelvin's school three days a week for around 9 hours), so ended up not doing that. We figured that we could survive at least six more months on the severance package. K was also counting on my meager salary and the online gig that I was going to start -- that's part of the story too, hang on.

In any case, fast forward to March and April 09. Panic strikes. We have to put the house on the market. Immediately. We are risking losing the house 'cause we really cannot afford to pay it anymore. After three "dark" months of and countless house showings and no offers, we appeal to the bank and Obama's plan for struggling homeowners comes through for us (although we felt really guilty that our problem was not really related to the economic crisis, but chiefly a consequence of our decisions). You read about those things here, if you've been around.

Before that, though, came one fateful afternoon in March (a Tuesday, the 26th), when we were getting ready to put the house on the market. I was working outside weeding an empty flowerbed next to the house when a car pulled into the driveway. A guy came out and talked for a while with K, who had been working on the garage. The previous night K had sent a job application for big pharma again. He was desperate, and he had emailed that guy, who stopped by to bring some mail for K that had been at the company for months. I -- foolish me -- thought, "Wow, maybe there's another opening at the company and he'll be able to go back to work there." And I continued to work feeling a bit hopeful even.

The guy left and I thought it was strange that K continued working in the garage quietly. It was almost 6 pm when I finally went inside and opened the door of the family room to the garage and talked to K. I will never forget what he told me then. His face was ashen with pain and regret and he looked very very tired.

"They're still there." He said.

"Who's still there? Where?" I asked.

"My boss T and the other guy here in Philly, V. They're still there."

"What?" I incredulously asked.

"Yes. They never left last November."

We both knew what he'd say next. The truth hit us harder than anything ever before. It was like a regret tsunami, and we were drowning in its dark void.

"I'd still be there."

This is just too painful to write and think about even over ten months later. The absurd irony of the timing was not lost on us. Why? We asked incessantly, why did we have to learn this just days before having to put our house on the market? Why couldn't we have remained blissfully (hahaha) ignorant? Why? It's always like that with us, the timing is always "perfect." It never fails, even in disastrous situations.

After my delightful two weeks in Massachusetts were over (the return trip was blogged here, I don't know if anyone read, no comments), I became really bitter about this. We began to analyze K's decision process described above and I reached a conclusion: we're just too idealistic for our own good. I know, the world needs idealists, yada yada yada, but some people are just handed too much of it at birth and from their upbringing (both in our case) and the two of us are "Idealism Champions" or, as Heather Armstrong would say it, we're "The Valedictorians of Idealism."*** I know, pathetic. K also realized that he had been simply too naive to have been persuaded by his boss. I mean, it was in his boss' best interest to have him leave, right? One less person in the payroll, one last person to try to find "work" for. He caught on that K still had links to academia and encouraged him to go.

And where do I get into this story? Before all this happened, there was the horrendous, nightmarish online gig. I knew we needed the money. I could have tried to "suck it up," but I just couldn't. I hated it, I rebelled against and disagreed with the whole thing most passionately and thus it ended the way it did (they dropped me). This happened in February and helped unravel the whole situation with the house. It wasn't much money, but it made a difference and we needed it most desperately.

Why, oh why, couldn't we have agreed to be mercenaries? For the sake of keeping the house. For the sake of the family.

K's immediate reaction was one of extreme guilt. Guilt for making his family suffer and go through all this. He apologized profusely. My dear K -- last year was the "year of apologizing" for him (the whole imbroglio with the school that left me depressed happened because he decided to pursue it and later he apologized too). I reassured him that it was OK, that it made me happy to see him enjoying his work and feeling passionately about it once more. And it totally does.

The painful regret, though? It comes and goes. I don't think it'll ever go away.

Maybe someday when K reaches that same yearly income. ;-)

Too bad that in academia (if he gets a job) it will take a long time for him to get there...

So here's our tale. All things considered, I guess I was able to finish this pretty well. If anyone will get this far into reading it is another question!


* This whole experience has made me compare K to Anne Eliot, the main character of Persuasion, my favorite Jane Austen book. I think he may be just too persuadable. (note from April 09)

** We even went to visit a townhome in a rental community and hated it with a vengeance. :-(

*** Yeah, I was so idealistic that my "non-speech" (I don't like formality and never made into t he valedictorian finals in high school, it received only one vote. I still see the woman who got to do it when I go visit my mom. I guess she's been probably more successful than me in life ;-).