Brought on by a wave of exhaustion, ennui, and despair in the midst of finishing one job, buying a house, starting a doctoral program, and moving many miles to a new city.
So I’ve had my master’s since 1998. I have worked since then and built a up a pretty damned good resume. I’ve moved around the country, traveled, gotten married, and become a settled-in, happy, scientist. I get to go out in the woods whenever I want, I work in isolation miles away from anyone else, I get to basically write my own ticket.
So what’s the problem?
Well, I was hired 4 years ago on a temporary 4-year assignment, and now my time is up. I don’t WANT it to be up. I’d hang on to this gig with everything I had except that the end is now unavoidable. At the end of July, I lose my job, and I’m getting cut adrift.
“Great time to go back to get your doctorate,” thought I. “Whoa! Awesome!”, agreed me. So I applied, retook the GRE, etc. and sailed through the app process. I even secured a generous stipend and a tuition waiver. Cool!
Except, y’know, what in the living goddamn FUCK am I doing?! I’m a salaried professional. I like getting paid to do my job. I like being comfortable on my salary. I told myself after round 1 of grad school that I was finished. No more tests, no more college horseshit, no more papers, no more stoopid academia politics. Terminal degree. Finito.
But here I am, staring down the barrel of four more years of oral comps, written comps, a dissertation, classes, books, teaching some prof’s 8AM classes, and student poverty. Dear God, I may have a panic attack.
OK, maybe not, but what the hell am I thinking? PLEASE GOD, somebody tell me this crap is going to be worth it someday.
I need another beer.