my inferiority complex might be in danger...
It's not very often that it feels like the universe is working in my favor, but this week has given me some good, solid evidence that I'm doing something right. The week started off with a Monday from hell. I was up until 5 a.m. Sunday-Monday finishing up work on a huge annotated bibliography that I had taken an extension on. I slept for 2.5 hours, got up when my partner gets up for work, made her coffee and packed her a lunch (because I'm just that awesome of a girlfriend), showered, packed up my bag for the day, and drove to campus. Monday morning marked the beginning of registration for Winter term classes and I was scheduled to be eligible to register at 9:30. Since I had class at 10, I brought my laptop with me and signed on as soon as I sat down outside my classroom. Only to find a hold on my regstration (which wasn't there a few days prior) because the Health Center hadn't received my immunization records. Ef. Em. El. Grad seminars are usually capped at 15 seats and there aren't nearly as many to choose from as undergrad courses. Things were already filling up a mere two hours after registration opened. I frantically emailed the two professors of the seminars I wanted, explained my situation, and asked if there was anything they could do for me, then sat through my two hour class, silently fuming as images of being forced to take Chaucer or 18th Century Theories of the Novel instead of my pre-planned Writing Queer and Thoreau ran through my mind. After class, I immediately made my way to the Registrar's Office where I practically begged them to manually register me.
Registrar Lady: I'm sorry, I can't. And registration just started; you have plenty of time.
Me: I'm a grad student. One of the courses I need is already full. I don't have plenty of time.
Lady: I just don't have the authority or the jurisdiction to lift holds placed by another office.
Me (convinced this is bullshit): There's really no way you can maneuver around it without lifting the hold? I don't care about the hold. I'll try sending them my records again. I just need to register.
Lady: No. I'm sorry. You'll have to go talk to the Health Center.
Me: Thanks anyway.
So I went to the Health Center, stood in line to talk to a receptionist who directed me to the records lady, Sherry, where I stood in another line to meet with her. Meanwhile, I realize I parked in 2-hour parking and it's already been well over three hours since I got to campus. Shit. Oh well. This is more important than a $12 ticket, I rationalize. Oh, and also, since I'd been up until 5 and completely neglected my reading for my second class, I had planned to read during my two hour break between classes. I watched helplessly as that plan flew out the window. I finally got in to talk to Sherry, who admitted that she had just placed the hold on my record earlier that morning. I literally shook my fist at her and said her name in a threatening tone, which I think was a good thing because she laughed and lifted my hold! Miraculous! I've never had anyone at any administrative office at any college I've attended actually help me out like that!
So I sat back down in the waiting room, booted up my computer, and immediately registered. I got into Writing Queer, but Thoreau was already full. Checked my email and there was a message from the Thoreau prof asking if I'd been able to get my hold lifted. I replied, 'Yes, but your seminar is already closed. I'll just have to keep an eye on it and see if anyone drops; hopefully I'll see you in January.'
Walk to my car, which is parked forever away from the Health Center, preparing myself for the ticket that... isn't there! OMG. Someone was looking out for me. Someone who knew that this small kindness would bring me unquantifiable relief. Move my car to a metered spot, buy a big coffee, run into a friend, smoke a cigarette, make my way to my second class. I'm pretty sure it wasn't overtly obvious that I was completely unprepared for class, having not even cracked open the book. Score.
Tuesday morning. Go to campus to work for a few hours in the tutoring center. Bring my computer so I can start drafting the epic paper I have due in two weeks. Log into my email to find another email from Prof. Thoreau: 'I had Marilyn, our administrator, open a seat for you in Thoreau if you're still interested. Let me know because there are one or two others in line after you.' !!!!! I was giddy. Never in my life did I expect to be this excited about Thoreau. I mean, he was a cool guy, but the two reasons I wanted this seminar so badly have nothing to do with him: 1. The prof is one of the top Thoreau scholars in the nation. If I attend the university he teaches at and don't take a seminar with him, it will be questioned. 2. This seminar is the only one offered in the Winter that has anything to do with my main area of specialization of 19th century American Lit. Moral of the story: Apparently, frantic, anxiety-laden emails can actually occasionally make things happen!
This brings us to today. Wednesday. Go to class this morning. Have returned to me my presentation and the accompanying paper from last week. I was ridiculously nervous for this presentation and I'm pretty sure it came through. I also had post-handing-in paper nervousness and totally convinced myself that I'd turned in a juvenile piece of crap. So convinced was I of my horrible grades, I didn't even look at it in class, but rather stuffed it in my notebook and didn't read it until well after class was over and I'd gotten a coffee and bagel to ease my pain. A's on both! WHAT?! Am I like some superstar? Because at this point, I really feel like I might be.
But wait - there's more.
Work at tutoring center for an hour, then down to man the English Grad Organization's Book/Bake Sale for an hour. Have friend check my mailbox. She brings me an inter-campus mail envelope with my name on it. Memo from the head of the department. My Winter and Spring term TA assignment has been changed. I've been chosen to work with the department's Community Literacy program. I'll be a liaison between the program and community organizations, advise students on internship opportunities, grade weekly papers on internship experiences, be in charge of the service learning portion of the program, and lead weekly discussions with students on internship-related stuff. I've never done anything remotely like this position before but I'm really excited that they picked me. I don't know why I was chosen. I doubt it was at random, so I'm wondering if the department head asked one of my profs for recommendations or if I just made a good impression on him when I met with him a few weeks ago to discuss my presentation topic. I honestly don't know how these decisions are made, but I'm super excited that I get to do this job instead of a second tutoring assignment.
Come home happy and fulfilled. Go into office, boot up computer, find in my email inbox a message from a different professor returning my paper prospectus electronically as an attachment. I've been waiting for this so I can really dive into writing my first draft. She has many helpful marginal comments and suggestions. Grade: A. In her words, she is 'tremendously impressed with the amount and quality of thinking and research' I've done on this project and finds my ideas 'provocative and intriguing.' !!!!!! Seriously people, seriously.
I spent the last two years working on my MA and never, not even once, did I feel as validated as I have on three or four separate occasions this week alone. This sensation is... indescribable. I almost want to cry. For the first time maybe ever, I feel as though I'm where I'm supposed to be.
Registrar Lady: I'm sorry, I can't. And registration just started; you have plenty of time.
Me: I'm a grad student. One of the courses I need is already full. I don't have plenty of time.
Lady: I just don't have the authority or the jurisdiction to lift holds placed by another office.
Me (convinced this is bullshit): There's really no way you can maneuver around it without lifting the hold? I don't care about the hold. I'll try sending them my records again. I just need to register.
Lady: No. I'm sorry. You'll have to go talk to the Health Center.
Me: Thanks anyway.
So I went to the Health Center, stood in line to talk to a receptionist who directed me to the records lady, Sherry, where I stood in another line to meet with her. Meanwhile, I realize I parked in 2-hour parking and it's already been well over three hours since I got to campus. Shit. Oh well. This is more important than a $12 ticket, I rationalize. Oh, and also, since I'd been up until 5 and completely neglected my reading for my second class, I had planned to read during my two hour break between classes. I watched helplessly as that plan flew out the window. I finally got in to talk to Sherry, who admitted that she had just placed the hold on my record earlier that morning. I literally shook my fist at her and said her name in a threatening tone, which I think was a good thing because she laughed and lifted my hold! Miraculous! I've never had anyone at any administrative office at any college I've attended actually help me out like that!
So I sat back down in the waiting room, booted up my computer, and immediately registered. I got into Writing Queer, but Thoreau was already full. Checked my email and there was a message from the Thoreau prof asking if I'd been able to get my hold lifted. I replied, 'Yes, but your seminar is already closed. I'll just have to keep an eye on it and see if anyone drops; hopefully I'll see you in January.'
Walk to my car, which is parked forever away from the Health Center, preparing myself for the ticket that... isn't there! OMG. Someone was looking out for me. Someone who knew that this small kindness would bring me unquantifiable relief. Move my car to a metered spot, buy a big coffee, run into a friend, smoke a cigarette, make my way to my second class. I'm pretty sure it wasn't overtly obvious that I was completely unprepared for class, having not even cracked open the book. Score.
Tuesday morning. Go to campus to work for a few hours in the tutoring center. Bring my computer so I can start drafting the epic paper I have due in two weeks. Log into my email to find another email from Prof. Thoreau: 'I had Marilyn, our administrator, open a seat for you in Thoreau if you're still interested. Let me know because there are one or two others in line after you.' !!!!! I was giddy. Never in my life did I expect to be this excited about Thoreau. I mean, he was a cool guy, but the two reasons I wanted this seminar so badly have nothing to do with him: 1. The prof is one of the top Thoreau scholars in the nation. If I attend the university he teaches at and don't take a seminar with him, it will be questioned. 2. This seminar is the only one offered in the Winter that has anything to do with my main area of specialization of 19th century American Lit. Moral of the story: Apparently, frantic, anxiety-laden emails can actually occasionally make things happen!
This brings us to today. Wednesday. Go to class this morning. Have returned to me my presentation and the accompanying paper from last week. I was ridiculously nervous for this presentation and I'm pretty sure it came through. I also had post-handing-in paper nervousness and totally convinced myself that I'd turned in a juvenile piece of crap. So convinced was I of my horrible grades, I didn't even look at it in class, but rather stuffed it in my notebook and didn't read it until well after class was over and I'd gotten a coffee and bagel to ease my pain. A's on both! WHAT?! Am I like some superstar? Because at this point, I really feel like I might be.
But wait - there's more.
Work at tutoring center for an hour, then down to man the English Grad Organization's Book/Bake Sale for an hour. Have friend check my mailbox. She brings me an inter-campus mail envelope with my name on it. Memo from the head of the department. My Winter and Spring term TA assignment has been changed. I've been chosen to work with the department's Community Literacy program. I'll be a liaison between the program and community organizations, advise students on internship opportunities, grade weekly papers on internship experiences, be in charge of the service learning portion of the program, and lead weekly discussions with students on internship-related stuff. I've never done anything remotely like this position before but I'm really excited that they picked me. I don't know why I was chosen. I doubt it was at random, so I'm wondering if the department head asked one of my profs for recommendations or if I just made a good impression on him when I met with him a few weeks ago to discuss my presentation topic. I honestly don't know how these decisions are made, but I'm super excited that I get to do this job instead of a second tutoring assignment.
Come home happy and fulfilled. Go into office, boot up computer, find in my email inbox a message from a different professor returning my paper prospectus electronically as an attachment. I've been waiting for this so I can really dive into writing my first draft. She has many helpful marginal comments and suggestions. Grade: A. In her words, she is 'tremendously impressed with the amount and quality of thinking and research' I've done on this project and finds my ideas 'provocative and intriguing.' !!!!!! Seriously people, seriously.
I spent the last two years working on my MA and never, not even once, did I feel as validated as I have on three or four separate occasions this week alone. This sensation is... indescribable. I almost want to cry. For the first time maybe ever, I feel as though I'm where I'm supposed to be.