Limbo + presents

I don't know what I'm doing with my life. Specifically with grad school, but the grad school I select (or the set of departments I choose to apply to, and when) has implications for other potential career paths that are important to me, not to mention for my current position.

My solution? Take a mental health day, and catch up on sleep for most of it. Yes, I am an avoider. However, I think it did provide some perspective. But I still have a lot of reading and thinking to do. And potentially scrambling to meet other departments' deadlines. Or potentially withdrawing my one application. Life is full of endless possibility, ain't it? Goddamn.

In other news, in light of Sisyphus's generosity, I have an offer to make to all two of you who read this:


By the end of the calendar year, I will send a tangible, physical gift to each of the first five people to comment here. The catch? Each person must make the same offer on her/his blog.


(And no, if fewer than five people comment, you can't come back for seconds.)

No, really, I am here.

I just have been too exhausted and busy most of the time to be interesting. (And that is the only reason for my ever not being interesting cough)

Hey, so it's October, isn't it? I should get on with taking that ol' GRE exam, shouldn't I now? Which means I should start knowing what words like "sedulous" mean. And how to, um, do geometry.

I'm now having second thoughts about applying only to one grad program. I think I'm getting sick of this university, even though I'm not even an undergraduate here anymore. I hope these feelings pass, a process which I plan to aid by ignoring said feelings completely. La la la, can't hear you, doubt!

Oh, and also, I'm getting my wisdom teeth out next week. I'm ambivalent, as even though I know sweet sweet drugs wait for me on the other side, I'm probably not going to be so good for personal-statement-writing for awhile if I'm in a Vicodin haze. Though I'm willing to be convinced otherwise.

Are the Chronicle blog titles always this tongue-in-cheek/ironic?

Or is it just a bad day?

Princeton Gives Top Marks to Its 3-Year-Old Policy to Control Grade Inflation

Thanks to Colleges, Students Just as Ignorant as They Were Last Year, Report Says


In related news, I'm so glad that, due to my circumstances, I have a free online subscription to the Chronicle. I'm getting to cultivating my academe nerdiness/navel-gazing to an extent not previously thought possible. Look, I even used the term "academe."

In unrelated news, I'm sick. Ugh.

Pseudo-productive things I did today

(That "s" in the title is misleading...)

During a lull in work this afternoon (not so much a "lull" as an "oh my God I CANNOT read/answer any more e-mails or I'll end up forking myself in the eye") I paid a courtesy call to Better Than U Grad School's online application. I took the opportunity to enter the contact information for my second recommender, Advisor Guy, whose assistant had just let me know that he'd be fine with using the website to submit his letter. I already had the go-ahead from Mentor Woman to enter her in last week, so aside from the (rather significant, natch) next step of getting said recommendations actually submitted, I've two down, one to go.

And that's where we have a problem.

My would-be third recommender, outside my discipline but quite relevant for my academic interests--and, most importantly, knows and likes my work--has gone on "deep leave." Meaning that she's not writing any recommendations unless prearranged. And I did not know this until I sent her an e-mail in mid-August and got an auto-reply saying as much.

FUCK.

I'm aware of how necessary it is for faculty to protect their research time, especially when presented with the opportunity to take a sabbatical--I don't want it to seem as if I'm not sympathetic to that. But, dude! AUGUST, and already no deal if not prearranged? Can't I get a grace period? A grandfather clause? I didn't even know for certain that I would be applying in this admissions cycle until a week before I e-mailed! (And I thought I was being good by asking four months in advance...)

All is not lost. She did write me a recommendation for something a few semesters ago, and I wrote a cordial and tiptoe-y e-mail asking if she might be able to find time to pull that out of the deep freeze and send it along, just change the dates or whatever. And, most charitably on her part, she did respond, though unfortunately to say that she hasn't been able to find it in her files. aaaaaaaaaaaaagh. So now what I do is pray that she stumbles across it before earlyish November, probably the latest I should be asking people for recs. (Unless any readers think otherwise...?)

This wouldn't be so bad but for the fact that she's basically the only person who knows me as an academic being from whom I haven't already requested a recommendation. I know other professors, in a few cases fairly well, but they have little experience with my work that was a) not mediated by TA grading, and/or b) the best stuff I'm capable of.

Presuming my would-be third doesn't find that old letter, I think what I'll do is schedule an appointment with Professor I've Assisted, From Whom I Took Two Classes, And Who Likes Me to talk more about my academic interests and plans for graduate work, and then hope that's enough for her to go on to write a compelling letter on my behalf. Although I accidentally saw a letter she wrote for me for another thing awhile back, and it was pretty "eh."

Of course, all of this probably doesn't matter, given that those first two letter writers are tenured members of the department to which I'm applying for admission--one of them actually being the guy I want to work with and have advise my dissertation.

Any advice, ether?

Peace! And quiet! ...!!!

I had a feeling my burst of sociability last week would burn off quickly. It's probably due to more factors than my introverted side's strangled cries for mercy, namely, that I've been so ridiculously busy with work (and now, school--hooray for auditing a most wonderful class with Advisor Guy) that I have not furnished my body with enough rest to actually enjoy consciousness--much less consciousness in the company of others when I feel like I have a bunch of shit to do that's not been done. Along those lines, my room's really messy and there are a bunch of dirty dishes in the sink since it was my week to clean the kitchen and I most certainly have not and though my roommates are lovely and understanding and care more about my physical and mental health than about the stagnant water collecting in our dirty half-rinsed wine glasses--this bothers me.

But!

(There is cause for exclamation points!)

Not ONLY was I able to sleep an extraordinarily helpful twelve hours last night, but...! My lovely and understanding roommates?

GONE!

For the whole weekend!

All three of 'em!!!

...

Sorry, I'm a little giddy. I had known that two roommates would be away, but it was only about twenty minutes ago and after an evening of puzzling (albeit very serene puzzling in an atmosphere of quiet relaxation) that I remembered the third had also been planning to go out of town this weekend. And this makes me way, way too happy.

But not as happy as I'll be once I have those damn dishes done.

Random bullets of wisdom teeth. And angst.

Okay, the title of this post is kind of a lie, but I don't care. First, non-bulleted wisdom teeth update (fascinating):

Last Wednesday I went to the dentist (yay having dental insurance!) to get some x-rays. I was originally supposed to have had that appointment tomorrow morning, but they were able to squeeze me in last week because I called whining about my sudden inability to swallow without swells of jaw pain. Verdict? I'm teething! Or on the top of one side of my mouth, I am. Apparently one of the little suckers was able to fight its way through without getting too impacted, and that mysterious okay-something's-pinching-something-but-there's-nothing-in-that-area-of-my-mouth-to-pinch pain that was waking me up at night? Tooth, ripping flesh. And now it's extraordinarily weird to grope around the back of my mouth and feel, hey, more chewing capability back there!

Now the bottom tooth on that same side is starting in, but it's semi-impacted and thus going to be much more annoying to wrench out. And speaking of annoying, the wisdom tooth on the bottom on the OTHER side is, like, completely horizontally impacted. So, it's off to the oral surgeon for me, and with all due speed. By which I mean September 27th. For the consultation. Yeah. Thanks, guys. I'm hoping none of my shifting teeth begin to inconveniently press on any nerves before then. I'm actually still up now because I'm having this inexplicable headache/sinus pain, and I know nothing about whether that could be connected to my teeth, but dammit, until I know better I'm gonna blame it on them.

The angst, believe it or not, is actually completely un-teeth-related. It was prompted by (another) conversation with (another) grad student. Basically the example this guy sets has got me all in a tizzy about my own motivations and ability to trust/believe in myself. More on that soon.

Another good reason to be angsty? I had to get my MacBook's power adapter replaced because, um, the wires were starting to burn through their protective covering (thanks, Apple!). I sent my craptastic fire/death hazard of an adapter back in the little box the AppleCare people sent me, but the bastards apparently did not receive it, because they just charged $76 to my credit card. *(@$&*(&%$^*(#*@&$#). Although I guess I should be glad that now my computer poses a slightly (?) lowered risk of immolating me while I sleep. Cheers!

You know it's fall

when they bring back the pumpkin spice lattes at Starbucks.

Okay, back to work...