Charlize Remi - Episode 6: Personal Log Entry [Dr. Andrea Williams]

As I write today's log, it's Friday morning. Thursday last week seems as though it were a lifetime ago, a memory seared into my skin.

I do not know how to navigate this current uncomfortable dance between Billie and I. We step nervously around one another, all of the unsaid things weighing down the air between us. Professionally, it's not ideal. I have been wildly unproductive this week. For example, I went into the greenhouse to collect a sample from a new branch that L-17 recently sprouted and, before I knew it, I had been standing still, in the same spot for at least fifteen minutes, completely lost in thought. When I became conscious of my stupor, I was unable to recall why I entered the greenhouse in the first place.

My purpose for today's log is to make an attempt at objectively piecing together the disconnected fragments of emotion that I've thus far been unable to classify. I want to do that now before the day begins. Before Billie arrives at the facility.

Where to begin?

Whenever I approach a problem in my research, I like to lay out all of the pieces physically, usually scattered notes and thoughts. I then like to take a metaphorical step back and observe them all, to begin articulating whatever underlying pattern might exist. That pattern usually represents the core of the problem, the gap that requires resolution. So let me attempt that here.

I knew from the first moment I met Billie that there was an attraction on my behalf. I felt a sense of disappointment in myself. I hold others to such a high standard and no one more-so than me personally. "A standard of excellence," is typically my 'go to' line across all areas of research. And I let that standard slip, despite my best efforts.

LOG INTERRUPTED

Billie arrived at the facility. Early, I should have anticipated it. We swapped an awkward morning greeting before I retreated back into my office to complete this log. The moment I saw her I realised the paragraph above is not accurate.

I have not let that standard slip. It seems I am, instead, powerless to control that attraction. There is a difference.

The pieces I'm attempting to analyse look like this:

I am attracted to Billie. There is a physical attraction, if I'm being entirely honest. But perhaps it's more. She is brilliant, I could speak with her for hours upon hours. Endlessly, if time would permit such an honour. I've not enjoyed conversation with anyone before as much as I enjoy it with her.

I cannot remove her from my mind. Believe me, I have tried.

Billie is my laboratory assistant, which represents a significant ethical dilemma. Not to mention the age gap between us, a fact I try not to reflect on too heavily.

I do not like this uncomfortable dance we are navigating.

Billie kissed me. And the unconscious part of my being that was suddenly switched on in that moment has grown louder and louder and louder, until it is screaming so loudly that it has drowned out every other thought.

I cannot focus.

I'm certain there are other pieces to this problem but, for now, we will begin there. When I step back and look at those pieces, what conclusion do I arrive at?

An impossible conclusion.

I have just now decided I actually don't want to perform this analysis today. Tomorrow, perhaps. Next week even. Never preferably.

I have been considering asking Billie to share more about herself with me. I have been hesitant to do so, not wanting to pry into her personal affairs and to, instead, treat every morsel she gifts me with as the treasure it is. But I find myself wanting to know so much more. What is her favorite color? What books does she read, aside from classics? Does she have a favorite film? If she were stranded on an island, what implement would be her tool of choice? What are her parents like? Does she have nieces and nephews? I'd dearly love to know as granular as to what her favorite grocery brands might be. And I suppose, most pressing but not more important than all of the above... does she feel the same internal warfare that I do?

I'll need to conclude this log for now. I can hear the telltale clinking of glass trays being prepared for another of Billie's sample analysis and I'd like to participate in that.

For now, I'll continue to reflect upon what it all might mean.