Worst. Methods. Ever.
When I'm really disappointed or unmotivated, I always look into the future for a sense of the Foreseeable Awesome. Sometimes that thing is irrelevant, like looking forward to your train coming when the hood you're staying in starts to feel too tough. Sometimes it's pertinent. Right now, it is both.
I've been an undergrad for 8 years and 9 by the time I'm done. At this point, when i'm frustrated by deadlines or endless undergrad tedium, I look forward to grad school. For whatever reason, doing what I want full time at a higher level is my Foreseeable Awesome. I've been thinking about UC Berkeley again. I have always just assumed that I'd never get into a school worth mentioning. I'm trying to get over this false "realism". Berkeley, however, only has a PhD program. Grad students go from banging around to meet requirements and convey eventual brilliance, to PhD candidacy. Suddenly, I don't feel ready all over again.
As I prepare to send a second heckling email to a prof I really want to work with, I'm scaling down my Foreseeable Awesome. No big moves and fresh starts here. No ego recognition or dreams of publication or worthy contribution to an academic field. Nope. I'm looking at malt liquor in Portland during the second week of December. I'm looking at a long delayed snuggle, bike rides, death metal shows, and peace and resignation of mediocrity. Low expectations are the best safety net.
I've been an undergrad for 8 years and 9 by the time I'm done. At this point, when i'm frustrated by deadlines or endless undergrad tedium, I look forward to grad school. For whatever reason, doing what I want full time at a higher level is my Foreseeable Awesome. I've been thinking about UC Berkeley again. I have always just assumed that I'd never get into a school worth mentioning. I'm trying to get over this false "realism". Berkeley, however, only has a PhD program. Grad students go from banging around to meet requirements and convey eventual brilliance, to PhD candidacy. Suddenly, I don't feel ready all over again.
As I prepare to send a second heckling email to a prof I really want to work with, I'm scaling down my Foreseeable Awesome. No big moves and fresh starts here. No ego recognition or dreams of publication or worthy contribution to an academic field. Nope. I'm looking at malt liquor in Portland during the second week of December. I'm looking at a long delayed snuggle, bike rides, death metal shows, and peace and resignation of mediocrity. Low expectations are the best safety net.