Strange. Past two months, I've almost been enjoying school. I have no paper deadlines; I don't have to make a mountain out of my teeny result-molehill. I see my supervisor once every fortnight; his crazy-talk bounces off my brain like cartoon bullets. I'm diligently working on my two projects, making progress on implementation and measuring results.
I saw a female faculty in the hallway the other day. Last time I spoke with her, I was in poor shape. She'd given me some advice on the candidature confirmation, finishing the degree, and getting a job. She asked, "How is the confirmation going?" I said, "All done." She said, "Wow! Do you plan on graduating this summer?" I said, "No way jose!"
This is how I thought graduate school was supposed to be. I'm working independently on stuff I enjoy. I'm learning new things. I see a clear end. I know what I need to do to get out. Instead, the first few semesters were torture; I got through them with rage, depression, therapy, and tenacity. The last 2 look like they'll be decent.
I've quoted her before, but she's worth repeating. From Annie Proulx's "The Bunchgrass Edge of the World,"
The main thing in life was staying power. That was it: stand around long enough, you'd get to sit down.
One question: What do I call this blog once I graduate?
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