[Fiction] Twenty-Five Years of Submissions to My Favourite Dubious Advice Podcast

 I've been listening to a lot of Dear Hank and John so inevitably keep thinking about what I would ask, but as "*gestures at everything* help?" wouldn't make a great question, I decided to write a story instead.

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Dear Hank and John, there's a really cute girl in my quantum mechanics lectures and I kind of want to ask her out but everytime she even looks at me I just forget how to form human words. Heeyyelp?

Dear Hank and John. What are some good second date ideas?

Dear Hank and John, how do you decide on a phd topic? I've wanted to be some form of scientist since I was very young and decided to study mathematics and theoretical physics at university - I figured by the time came to do a PhD I would have an idea of what I found interesting and what I might be good at but the problem is...everything is kind of interesting? And finding something new, something genuinely new that no-one else has ever done before (which is what you need for phd) seems way to big and scary. Obviously I'm getting lots of advice from my supervisor and other researchers but I'm worried that whatever I choose I'm going end up stuck trying to make progress on for the next few years and what if I get it wrong? Am I making a terrible mistake and should I just go get a job instead? Any dubious advice is greatly welcomed.

Dear Hank and John, is a Batman themed wedding a terrible idea? My fiancée and I have been engaged for just over a year now and what started as a joke became a serious plan as we looked up ideas for accessories to add to our clothes, themed cocktails and food, invitation designs etc. We're both pretty psyched about the whole thing but my parents are convinced we're joking. I don't know how to convince them we're not, and I'm starting to wonder whether they'll just refuse to come if they find out we're really going ahead with it. 

Dear Hank and John - thank you so much for answering my question about the Bat-wedding! Just to update you, we talked to my parents and it turns out my mum thought we were going to be wearing full cos-play rather than just, you know, taking a few photos wearing masks etc. When we explained that no, my fiancée would be wearing a dress, I would be wearing a suit, they came on board with the whole idea and ended up having a great time. Attached are some pics from the big day. 

Dear Hank and John. I'm going to become a parent. I'M GOING TO BECOME A PARENT. AAAARGHHHHH!!!!!!!! HOW DO YOU BRING UP A WHOLE HUMAN BEING??!!!

Dear Hank and John,  do you think there'll be long-term consequences for all the babies and children growing up under lockdown? I understand why we need to stay isolated and try and get this worrying disease under control, but I'm worried about my little girl, as she hasn't really been able to interact with anyone other than her parents. At first I suppose that didn't really matter because she was so small and we were just trying to get used to having a baby and meeting her basic needs, but she's growing so quickly now and it feels like this isolation is going on for a lot longer than we thought it would. Will she just totally freak out if someone other than us picks her up? What if this goes on for years and she doesn't get to meet kids her own age? Sorry, I guess that's unlikely. The uncertainty is getting to me.

Dear Hank and John - what do babies dream about?

Dear Hank and John, so I'm finishing off my phd and I have to start looking for jobs (and probably should have started some time ago) but I don't really know what work I want to do? I don't want to stay in academia, partly because I'm just burned out but also because it's so hard to find a permanent position and it seems unfair on my family to uproot them every two to three years as I chase postdoc places around the country. I just can't imagine what else I might be good at though, and every time I look at vacancies nothing leaps out at me as being interesting or, frankly, doable. Do I even have marketable skills? I'm a mathematician, but I can't do statistics or much coding and have pretty severe social anxiety which rules out a lot of jobs. What is there left? 

Dear Hank and John, how do you pick a name for your second child - it took us long enough to decide on the first one! If it's a boy, we're fine, because we have the unused boy's name from our first child, but we already used up our favourite name for a girl. Suggestions welcome.

Dear Hank and John, how does my four-year-old know more dinosaurs than me? Do all children go through a dinosaur phase? What's your favourite dinosaur?

Dear Hank and John, when is it ok to give up on things? Obviously just abandoning something as soon as it gets hard is not a good way to get better at doing that thing, and I do get that sometimes things that are hard are worth perservering with. But when you've been trying and failing to do the same thing repeatedly does there become a point when continuing is just creating misery for yourself? How do I give myself permission to accept there are some things I just won't be able to do?

Dear Hank and John, why are there swear words? Did we just decide as a society that some words are...bad? And if so, why?! Thinking of this as I desperately try not to accidentally teach my two-year-old swears....

Dear Hank and John, does my dog *really* understand what I'm saying?

Dear Hank-sorry, Dear John and Hank, so here's a weird situation. The window cleaner left a ladder down the side of our house, presumably by accident, but he hasn't been back to collect it and we have no way of contacting him. It's been three weeks. Do we just own a ladder now?!

Dear John and Hank, at the end of job interviews when they ask if you have any questions for them, what are you supposed to ask? All the advice I've read suggests you should ask, like details about the job or the facilities but not things like how soon you can book vacation or whatever. But...actually all the interviews I've been to have been pretty upfront about everything I would possibly want to know. The advert usually states expected start date and what the job will entail, they usually give a tour of the office so I know where I'd be sitting etc. But not asking anything makes it seem like you're uninterested apparently?! What am I supposed to do?

Dear John and Hank, HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO F***ING IRON FITTED F***ING SHEETS? Or should I just not bother?

Dear John and Hank, what the heck happened to the AI revolution? Weren't we all supposed to be out of jobs by now?

Dear John and Hank, how much salt is "a pinch"? 

Dear John and Hank, why are teenagers? Just why? Was I this awful at that age? Should I go and apologise to my parents right now?

Dear John and Hank, I've been trying to "get fit" and have taken up running and...it's kind of just awful. I've heard other people talk about how good they feel after a workout etc but I just feel exhausted and, at best, relieved it's over. Am I doing it wrong? Do I need to be running harder or for longer? Or does not everyone get that "runner's high"?

Dear John and Hank, did you really think you'd still be doing this podcast now when you first started? Do you have a favourite episode or are there just too many to keep track of?

Dear John and Hank, what can I do as a parent to help my child with exam stress? She seems to be having a much harder time than I did, maybe because I was weird and actually enjoyed exams, or maybe because there's just so much more pressure on kids these days. I'm really worried, and no matter how much I try to reassure her that things will be ok regardless of how well or badly she does, she just seems to be getting more stressed. What can I do to help?

Dear John and Hank, wait - Americans don't use the word "fortnight"?!

Dear John and Hank, what's a polite way to tell people you don't want to "get over it" or "get through it" and maybe they shouldn't assume there is some kind of normal you can get back to. Like, actually, some things have changed forever, and we should acknowledge that. 

Dear John and Hank, what do you do when you feel like your life is...kind of over. My partner died last year, my kids are mostly grown up, my job is...ok. I don't have any real ambitions any more because any I did have I put aside to concentrate on my family and now just don't mean the same to me. I'm not the same person I was twenty, twenty five years ago, which was the last time I was by myself and I'm not sure what I want from life now. It all feels a bit pointless. I know i have friends and family that still care about me, it's not like I'm feelling suicidal, I just don't know what I'm supposed to *do* now. What is the point the life?

Anxious

(Warning - long and rambly)

I seem to be a bundle of nerves today and I don't really know why. I guess I'm worried about something.

It could be any number of things. The Terror's misbehaviour has been increasing lately and I'm at a loss as to what else I can do to calm him down and make him listen to us. Daddy is therefore more stressed, and has some work worries about possible relocation as well as the usual traumatic process that is research. We're both on new meds, and overdue a doctor appointment to check up on our progress. I suppose it could be the drugs that are making me nervous - they certainly seem to have killed my appetite and I'm not sleeping as well, but I was oversleeping to start with. I have money worries - one of which admittedly is having too much money and the fear that I'm spending it when I know I'll have to pay it back. We screwed up a declaration of income for the Tax Credit Office and who knows what the outcome of that will be. I haven't heard from the computer shop re my laptop which leads me to suspect I wrote my phone number down wrong (I suppose they already think I'm an idiot, going in shouldn't be too embarrassing). I didn't do any work last week and now I've got a load of marking to do I can't quite face (partly because I'm so jittery).

There's the always present feeling that I'm not doing a good enough job bringing the Terror up, and the fear I'll forget something important for school. There's the guilt about having a wonderful man who's madly in love with me and yet that doesn't stop me feeling that I'm in love with someone else who isn't the slightly bit interested (and I know it won't last, but can't seem to cope all the same). There's other guilt as well, about the selfish things I've done in the past because I couldn't deal with my emotions sensibly and people got hurt. And the guilt about not staying in touch with friends, or talking to my family as much as I should. My mum has cancer again and while I rationalize that the prognosis is good and she will cope fantastically as she always does, it's still a bit too scary for me to fully accept. Mum's very sick and there's nothing I can do except try and be there for her. Other people have problems too, that I wish I could help with somehow but never can. I'm not sure why I think I can sort out other people's lives when I can barely manage my own, but I can't stop myself interfering and trying to fix things, probably because I feel at least partially responsible.

I don't seem to enjoy doing stuff as much as I used to, and whether that's the depression or the drugs or just a phase I don't know, but it makes doing anything difficult as I can't even use a reward as motivation. And yet somehow I have to keep going, struggling on and getting by as best I can. Trying my best to make other people happy, which at least makes me feel a bit better, and at least there's one person I can make happy just by being around. Well, two, I suppose. The Terror's moods never last that long really.

I'm a bit calmer now. Guess it does help to write it all out.

It Was Six Years Ago Today

(Stop me if you've heard this one.)

It was a Thursday. First week of term, so nothing for me to do but wallow in self pity. I'd seen my ex earlier, and we'd had a good chat about summer and the next year and his hopes of finding a girlfriend at a Wine Soc social. Felt pretty good to still be friends and realise we weren't going to do anything daft like get back together - even when he kissed me goodbye on the lips it felt more like closure than the start of anything. But I was still hung up on other crushes and other hurts. As the afternoon ticked by I got lonely and desperate to see a particular someone again and went to the maths department (now in shiny new surroundings in Goodricke). I sat on the seating in the corridor, hoping pathetically that he'd walk by or I could catch him on his way out of coffee.

I can't even remember if I did see him.

I started crying. The intense, aching, agony of wanting even the briefest of contacts with someone you know you can't have has always been more than I can cope handle. These days I hide or seek out hugs. But back then I was a passive-aggressive, emotionally blackmailing drama queen, and couldn't bear the thought of people not knowing how badly I hurt. So I sat in public and cried. Then curled up into a ball, lay there and sobbed my heart out. Hoping, of course, that someone would stop and help.

Someone did.

I was vaguely aware of someone stopping and sitting on the floor next to me. I didn't know who it was, but I knew who it wasn't so I had no intention of paying them any attention. I just stayed still, face hidden, hoping they'd go away. I must have stopped crying at some point. And waited for them to give up and go away so I could slump off back to my room. Or even just say something, so I could brush them off and leave. I didn't quite have the courage to just up and go. Or maybe I was still hoping they'd get someone else. I can't remember. Anyway, I hid.

Eventually, I heard movement as the person shifted their weight slightly and I cautiously looked up. I recognised him as one of the new postgrads.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going anywhere." More true than either of us could have imagined at the time.

I started to mumble apologies, which he told me were unnecessary, and wipe the tears away and brush my hair back from my face. I may have tried to suggest that I'd better go, but his easy going empathy disarmed me somewhat - I wasn't used to people not asking what the matter was. Then he suggested coffee and that was it. No way I was going to turn down coffee.

We sat, we chatted. Then we went for a walk. Then he suggested he cook tea. We had what can really only be described as a "student meal" - bacon in a plum sauce with noodles. Made all the more problematic by the fact he only had one set of cutlery - I got to have the knife and fork and had to cut up his bacon for him so he could eat it with a spoon. We ate, drank wine, listened to music (and he introduced me to Weird Al, thus leading to possibly the geekiest "our song" ever - The Saga Begins), talked and laughed. Laughed so much. We were in hysterics for most of the evening - nerves probably, but he still makes me laugh so I can't stop. And there was kissing and even some fondling, and he walked me home at the end of night.

And I couldn't wait to see him again.

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Postscript: Five years ago today we were stood in our new house with the baby due at the end of the month. We were about to go out (for lunch, I think) with my parents when my mum spotted the cards on the mantelpiece.
"Oh, what's the occasion?"
"It's our anniversary," we explained. "We met one year ago today."
"One year?" She sounded surprised. "Is that all?"
Just about everyone had said it at some point during that year - it seems like we've known each other a lot longer. And I think that's what made me so sure we were right for each other - it seemed so natural, even to other people, to the point where it felt it had always been this way. And it always will.

It's unimaginable any other way.