A Matter Of Course
The power went out along my grid, around midday, while I was eating my lunch at home. It was on long enough for me to check my email, but it cut out before I was able to check the location of the Dissertation Preparation Workshop I had pre-registered to attend this afternoon. My laptop has a battery, of course, but the internet doesn't work without power--funny thing, that.
Things that like don't happen, except in my universe.
The elevators were of course out of commission and the generators were busy keeping basic lights on in the halls. I took "STAIRS 2" down a crazy stairwell I never knew existed and ended up underground like Alice in the rabbit hole, wandering and wandering and wondering where and when she was going to end up.
Why people don't understand that traffic intersections work like 4-way stops when the power goes out, I do not know.
I keep a campus map in the back bottom pocket of my backpack because I figure that if I can find my own ass, I can probably operate a map. At least, I can probably locate and open a map.
I found the place in question--and life and my prof were lovely enough that I was able to get out of Classical Japanese an hour early for the workshop--and went to get my hopes dashed.
I think it was supposed to be a pep talk, but it mostly just simultaneously depressed and scared the shit out of me. I think I may have been the only person still in the M.A. program. Everybody else, from all fields of study, was well into working on their doctoral dissertation. I registered for the workshop, in spite of the fact that my own dissertation isn't set to even begin for another two years, because I know how behind I tend to get with things. I can't even keep up with my own laundry, for crying out loud. So it was good that I got a swift kick today.
It was horrible, hearing about all these crazy things I need to do to finish a dissertation. It scared me enough that I have this sudden urge to start working on it now, so I can buy some time. Otherwise, there's no way I'm going to finish it in 5 years.
One of the mini-lectures was about all the things you can cut out of your life, to aid you in completing your dissertation within 5 years: family, friends, hobbies, dating, parties, movies, life, sleep, etc. The message was clear: you will do your dissertation from dawn to dusk for 3-5 years. One speaker was kind enough to point out that your life doesn't start after your dissertation is over: you've stalled your life and relationships for at least 3 years, so what makes you think you can make up for lost time after it's over? The people who may have loved you will be long gone, and you'll be too old to try and find the love of your life after you're done.
That pretty much cinches it. I always knew I was destined to be eternally single, that I wasn't going to have kids, but the thought that I had the potential to be "normal" and follow biological instincts like everybody else was somewhat comforting; to have that blown totally out of the water wasn't pleasant. I've done the math several times, and I know it won't work out. Assuming I go straight through and finish my MA and PhD in 2 and 3 years, respectively, I'll be just shy of 30 when I'm done. Knowing me, I won't be finishing my PhD in only 3 years, which will probably put me closer to 31 or 32. Looking at the fact that I may want to work for a few years after my MA, to save some money and get my foot in the door, that'll add another 2 or so years to the total. Which means that I'll finally be able to have a life again 10 years from now, more or less. It takes me 3 years to tell if a relationship is going to pan out or, more likely, not, which means that I'll be 38 by the time I find Mr. Right, assuming he's the first one I date. Give 4 years for blissful childless marriage time, and I won't start thinking about having kids until I'm 42 which, frankly, is too late (due to complications, such as Downs Syndrome, that can arise in the children of women over 40). So that doesn't look like it's going to work.
It's not that I'm totally averse to this reality, but it seems sort of sad, too. It feels like personal failure. I know my parents would LOVE grandchildren, and I can't give them that. I'm always seeking personal enrichment and improvement, and my parents always said that you never learn to grow up until you have kids, so I always wanted to have children (yes, I admit, solely for the sake of personal growth). But, I have to admit, kids are very cool people. And I would like to have a little version of myself. Someone to entertain me with her questions about the universe. Someone to bend my brain. I've thought about adoption--I know two killer-cool women who are single who have adopted foreign kids--and that might be an option later down the road, but I still have another 15 years before I need to think about that.
I tell you what, though, life comes at you fast. I look at my immediate future and I'm already middle-aged. The media talks about your 20s like it's this wild, awesome time, but it's really just a bunch of hard work to prepare you for even more hard work.
Wild times, my ass. How wild can you get, hauling ass between the library and the computer lab every day for 5 years? Yeah, that's what I thought.
Things that like don't happen, except in my universe.
The elevators were of course out of commission and the generators were busy keeping basic lights on in the halls. I took "STAIRS 2" down a crazy stairwell I never knew existed and ended up underground like Alice in the rabbit hole, wandering and wandering and wondering where and when she was going to end up.
Why people don't understand that traffic intersections work like 4-way stops when the power goes out, I do not know.
I keep a campus map in the back bottom pocket of my backpack because I figure that if I can find my own ass, I can probably operate a map. At least, I can probably locate and open a map.
I found the place in question--and life and my prof were lovely enough that I was able to get out of Classical Japanese an hour early for the workshop--and went to get my hopes dashed.
I think it was supposed to be a pep talk, but it mostly just simultaneously depressed and scared the shit out of me. I think I may have been the only person still in the M.A. program. Everybody else, from all fields of study, was well into working on their doctoral dissertation. I registered for the workshop, in spite of the fact that my own dissertation isn't set to even begin for another two years, because I know how behind I tend to get with things. I can't even keep up with my own laundry, for crying out loud. So it was good that I got a swift kick today.
It was horrible, hearing about all these crazy things I need to do to finish a dissertation. It scared me enough that I have this sudden urge to start working on it now, so I can buy some time. Otherwise, there's no way I'm going to finish it in 5 years.
One of the mini-lectures was about all the things you can cut out of your life, to aid you in completing your dissertation within 5 years: family, friends, hobbies, dating, parties, movies, life, sleep, etc. The message was clear: you will do your dissertation from dawn to dusk for 3-5 years. One speaker was kind enough to point out that your life doesn't start after your dissertation is over: you've stalled your life and relationships for at least 3 years, so what makes you think you can make up for lost time after it's over? The people who may have loved you will be long gone, and you'll be too old to try and find the love of your life after you're done.
That pretty much cinches it. I always knew I was destined to be eternally single, that I wasn't going to have kids, but the thought that I had the potential to be "normal" and follow biological instincts like everybody else was somewhat comforting; to have that blown totally out of the water wasn't pleasant. I've done the math several times, and I know it won't work out. Assuming I go straight through and finish my MA and PhD in 2 and 3 years, respectively, I'll be just shy of 30 when I'm done. Knowing me, I won't be finishing my PhD in only 3 years, which will probably put me closer to 31 or 32. Looking at the fact that I may want to work for a few years after my MA, to save some money and get my foot in the door, that'll add another 2 or so years to the total. Which means that I'll finally be able to have a life again 10 years from now, more or less. It takes me 3 years to tell if a relationship is going to pan out or, more likely, not, which means that I'll be 38 by the time I find Mr. Right, assuming he's the first one I date. Give 4 years for blissful childless marriage time, and I won't start thinking about having kids until I'm 42 which, frankly, is too late (due to complications, such as Downs Syndrome, that can arise in the children of women over 40). So that doesn't look like it's going to work.
It's not that I'm totally averse to this reality, but it seems sort of sad, too. It feels like personal failure. I know my parents would LOVE grandchildren, and I can't give them that. I'm always seeking personal enrichment and improvement, and my parents always said that you never learn to grow up until you have kids, so I always wanted to have children (yes, I admit, solely for the sake of personal growth). But, I have to admit, kids are very cool people. And I would like to have a little version of myself. Someone to entertain me with her questions about the universe. Someone to bend my brain. I've thought about adoption--I know two killer-cool women who are single who have adopted foreign kids--and that might be an option later down the road, but I still have another 15 years before I need to think about that.
I tell you what, though, life comes at you fast. I look at my immediate future and I'm already middle-aged. The media talks about your 20s like it's this wild, awesome time, but it's really just a bunch of hard work to prepare you for even more hard work.
Wild times, my ass. How wild can you get, hauling ass between the library and the computer lab every day for 5 years? Yeah, that's what I thought.