"with research I rediscovered love" and my new bug

This post should have been written a while ago, when I had my first results (I don't have any second ones by now,  I just mean when they were fresh and I could have been enthusiastic). I thought of this phrase ("with research I rediscovered love") but everything was so sad. So, I postponed it until I feel better. Now the post is gonna come out strong and happy, I want it to.

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When I saw my beautiful matrix (the first step for getting the results) I was happy for a moment, until I realised it was not so beautiful after all. There was still a bug in there, which took me another week to fix, but I did it. And my supervisor said she was sure that the final matrix will be just as beautiful. And here it is:

So here we are, when do we open the champaign for the results? My other supervisor recommended the champaign, although I had no idea of brain anatomy. So there it is. I love it. Hard work gave me very good, clean results. :) I rediscovered love in small black bubbles on brain sketches, although I thought I could not be enthusiastic about anything again. These bubbles are so interesting, so full of mystery and open to interpretation, really exciting. I can look at them for ages. Really. Don't laugh.

Another thought has been bugging me the last weeks. I realised it stronger when I told the taxi driver that I study languages and didn't want to go into detail. Why would I do that? For two reasons: 1) I didn't think I would be able to explain it in a way he could understand (no positioning in whose fault this might be), 2) I didn't feel comfortable talking about my research and basically showing off. It usually scares people away. (except some smart, well read ones, who ask me maybe something about Chomsky or so)

So the bug goes like this: when I am in the office and thinking my stuff through, I sometimes think that I know so little and there is soooo soooo much I want to know and have to read on, so I end up feeling small and stupid. But then, I go out in the world and talk to my friends, or to my choir mates or to the taxi driver and think, oh my goodness, it is almost hybris to talk to them about my research, because to them all this is too complicated. Get my problem? 

I get bored from their discussions and feel bad about it. And then I try to match, to fit in, and this is how I end up saying that I study languages in a masters degree (which of course I already have since 2011), and might go back to Greece to be a teacher. What a fuzz.