On how Grad School Applications are like Unrequited love
The strong verb for requite in Old English is "agieldan". It means to repay, recompensate, or offer oneself up as a sacrifice.
So, graduate programs, you didn't repay me for all of the hard work I put into you. You didn't give me anything back.
I am still waiting on words of requitement from Iowa, Indiana, and Western Michigan but I feel fairly hopeless. What is wrong with me that you don't love me Ph.D programs?
Unrequited Love? Yes.
If so, how do I get you to notice me?
Make my overall appearance sexier? Yes. Change my interests to match yours? Yes. Tell you only what you want to hear? Yes. Put out? Yes, Yes, Yes.
So, Ph.D. programs, all you need to do is call me. Repay me for my hard work. Once again, I will put out*.
(*Note: I won't actually put out on dates with real people. But with grad school...definitely)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So yes, rejection: 3 down 3 to go.
I think the scariest thing about this whole process is that I was surprisingly calm at these rejections; I want to get my PhD so badly but am unsure about teaching.
But I assuage my nerves with back up plans. Let's take a look at the other contenders on the love connection:
Bachelor A: Take a year off from school and adjunct at local community college and at some sort of consumerist venture (i.e. starbucks?) to earn just enough for rent and monthly food bills. Apply to Ph.D programs again. Total rejection from all but NIU. Get Ph.D at NIU.
Bachelor B: Take a year off from school and adjunct at local community college and at some sort of consumerist venture (i.e. starbucks?) to earn just enough for rent and monthly food bills. Apply to Ph.D programs again. Acceptance to at least one of my top choice schools. Go on to glorious Ph.Dness.
Bachelor C: Take a year off from school and adjunct at local community college and at some sort of consumerist venture (i.e. starbucks?) to earn just enough for rent and monthly food bills. Apply to Ph.D programs and Library Science programs. Decide I can live without formal literary research. Get MLS and apply for library jobs.
On a positive note, whatever path I choose includes some form of a job and money. On the downside, none of these options include health care, which I desperately need. Should I not get health care for this year off from school? I really need my thyroid medicine so that doesn't seem like a good option. Yikes.
Lots to think about. I remember when a decision about my vocation was as simple as "Where can my greatest passion fit a great need." Now my decision is more like "Where can any sort of interest fit my greatest need." It doesn't make me as happy but I'm starting to think that you don't need to be happy with your job. Maybe being okay with it is okay, right? Do I have to love teaching?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I did have a good day today. I had another bloodtest today. My thyroid levels are still funky but I feel as if we are on the cusp of getting me regulated. Also, my doctor was asking me about school and she told me how she loved to read Czech poetry when she was in med school. She said that the students would read to stay awake on their night shifts at the hospital. It feed into my highly romanticized view of literature. Reading poetry while completely exhausted, surrounded by possible death seems so pure.
Lately, when I think about poetry like this it makes me cry because I'm frightened I won't get to live this life. Once I told some one that I wanted life to be saturated by literature. I wanted to be marching in metaphors. And, as much as I would like to work in a library, I want literature to move to that higher level; i don't want to just catalogue books, I want to make books come alive. I feel like all of the work I do in my free time is preparing me to be a scholar. I read philosophy books, listen to jazz, and watch old movies not only because I like them but because I see these types of things as possible connections I can bring in to my research and to my class. I am constantly getting ideas from art that i want to present to future classes. Sigh. But preparation is so much different from action.
I feel as if the road finally diverged in the yellow wood. In a few months I will have to make potentially crippling decisions and I feel unprepared. I'm not ready to pay up.