I'm such a bundle of emotions, confusion, and contradictions when it
comes to the decision of whether or not to get a graduate degree. I
don't think I can adequately do justice to years worth of feelings about it in a few posts but I feel the need to talk through some of it anyway.
I was looking through job postings the other day and I found myself trying to figure out what, if anything, sounded like the kind of job I would be excited to do every day. Nothing much stood out and this is why I started thinking again about graduate school.
I have all but given up on the dream of pursuing it for many reasons, but it keeps nagging me. And right now I am in a sort of limbo of not having many responsibilities (like a house or kids) while still having (barely) enough time to get both a Masters and a PhD and (hopefully) a job locked down before my biological clock starts clanging warning bells.
But it is much easier said than done. Especially since getting the Masters degree I want would involve moving out of country and across the ocean to jolly old England.
And is it really what I want anymore? Would it make me happy to go to work everyday? And am I in love with the job, and all it entails, or just the idealized fantasy I have of it? How much of this is fear talking and how much of this is just being realistic?
*Last week was Shakespeare week in my town and I got to see four different plays, Love's Labour's Lost, Twelfth Night, Othello, and of course, Hamlet.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Sunday, August 19, 2012
I Coulda Been Somebody
Ten years ago when I went skipping off to college I knew exactly what my major was going to be - Anthropology with an emphasis in Archaeology. Nothing and no one could sway me from my choice. And throughout the four years I spent getting my degree I sat through most of my classes with rapt fascination, so happy to be studying something that intrigued me, that ignited my inner scientist.
Not every class was perfect nor every teacher enthralling, but I had the overwhelming sense that I was doing right by myself for picking something I liked rather than something "practical".
And when people asked me what I would do after I graduated I would always answer "probably go to graduate school" because when I turned my mind toward the future I had vague visions of planting my flag on uncharted scientific territory. Afterall, wasn't the discipline of Anthropology looking to me and my fellow classmates to carry on the torch? To make discoveries, document evidence, solve old mysteries and pose new questions?
In my fantasy of my future self I was going to scale mountains, trek jungles, brave the desert sands and camp beneath the stars. My family would come to visit me in some far distant land and there I'd be, dressed in khaki, with an Indiana Jones-style fedora perched on my head, trowel in hand. I'd be the cool aunt to my nieces and nephews, regaling them with tales of my adventures, bringing them exotic little trinkets they could take to show-and-tell.
And when digging was over for the season I would return to my job as a professor where I would be firm but fair, and hopefully fun and fascinating. Igniting the passions of a new generation of scientists who would one day carry on the torch.
But the fantasy halted on graduation day and has been slowly and painfully dying ever since.
More on that later though; now I must get some sleep so I can wake up and go to the job that pays the bills.
Not every class was perfect nor every teacher enthralling, but I had the overwhelming sense that I was doing right by myself for picking something I liked rather than something "practical".
And when people asked me what I would do after I graduated I would always answer "probably go to graduate school" because when I turned my mind toward the future I had vague visions of planting my flag on uncharted scientific territory. Afterall, wasn't the discipline of Anthropology looking to me and my fellow classmates to carry on the torch? To make discoveries, document evidence, solve old mysteries and pose new questions?
In my fantasy of my future self I was going to scale mountains, trek jungles, brave the desert sands and camp beneath the stars. My family would come to visit me in some far distant land and there I'd be, dressed in khaki, with an Indiana Jones-style fedora perched on my head, trowel in hand. I'd be the cool aunt to my nieces and nephews, regaling them with tales of my adventures, bringing them exotic little trinkets they could take to show-and-tell.
And when digging was over for the season I would return to my job as a professor where I would be firm but fair, and hopefully fun and fascinating. Igniting the passions of a new generation of scientists who would one day carry on the torch.
But the fantasy halted on graduation day and has been slowly and painfully dying ever since.
More on that later though; now I must get some sleep so I can wake up and go to the job that pays the bills.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The Only Thing You Have to Fear.....
I promised I would dedicate myself to finding a new job once my vacation was over. I knew when I returned I would have about 2 1/2 months to find one before guilt would officially kick in and I would feel obligated to stay through the busy season.
I am keenly aware that finding a new job is the linchpin needed for my future plans to fall into place.
And now I have 1 month and 25 days left before busy season begins. So what have I done on the job front? Zip, zilch, nil, nada, nothing. In short, I haven't done squat.
Why? Not because of the lack of jobs, or the fact that I am underqualified for most of the ones being advertised. There are solutions for those excuses - I could widen my search, or go back to school to get better qualified.
Not even because I feel as though I am searching for the "perfect" job, one that will allow me the flexibility/environment/salary I will need to actually start on the SMC path, while also being a job I look forward to doing day in and day out.
Not because my interview wardrobe consists of one skirt and one jacket (my current job is fairly casual).
Not even because I can't imagine the logistics of leaving in the middle of work to go to an interview for another job.
No, what's holding me back is Fear and it's evil cousin Lack of Confidence. These, along with my introverted personality, make for a fatal combination that continuously feeds into the above-mentioned excuses until the only thing that happens on the job front is nothing.
And despite wanting a new job so bad it hurts, despite knowing how little time I have left between now and when I turn 30, I just can't seem to get motivated about starting. The Ghost of Job Hunting Past just won't quit haunting me.
I am keenly aware that finding a new job is the linchpin needed for my future plans to fall into place.
And now I have 1 month and 25 days left before busy season begins. So what have I done on the job front? Zip, zilch, nil, nada, nothing. In short, I haven't done squat.
Why? Not because of the lack of jobs, or the fact that I am underqualified for most of the ones being advertised. There are solutions for those excuses - I could widen my search, or go back to school to get better qualified.
Not even because I feel as though I am searching for the "perfect" job, one that will allow me the flexibility/environment/salary I will need to actually start on the SMC path, while also being a job I look forward to doing day in and day out.
Not because my interview wardrobe consists of one skirt and one jacket (my current job is fairly casual).
Not even because I can't imagine the logistics of leaving in the middle of work to go to an interview for another job.
No, what's holding me back is Fear and it's evil cousin Lack of Confidence. These, along with my introverted personality, make for a fatal combination that continuously feeds into the above-mentioned excuses until the only thing that happens on the job front is nothing.
And despite wanting a new job so bad it hurts, despite knowing how little time I have left between now and when I turn 30, I just can't seem to get motivated about starting. The Ghost of Job Hunting Past just won't quit haunting me.
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