An explanation for the name change:
Amanda is a popular name. Other people are as unoriginal as I am.
An explanation for the name change:
Amanda is a popular name. Other people are as unoriginal as I am.
The GirlsTM and I get together on an almost-monthly basis. We usually have some sort of potluck and wine. We’ve all come to like our little group. It’s kind of like a graduate school support group. We formed during our first year in the required fall course. There were eight of us. Now, there are 5 of us. Two of us working on a master’s degree and have graduated. One decided (wisely) that this baloney wasn’t for her and she decided to pursue a masters in another program(and is much happier now, incidentally). The five of us left are all in our fourth year.
We had a potluck a few weeks ago and were talking about my Former Labmate, who has recently defended. “It’s weird,” I told them, “that he is gone. And I’m now , in Advisor’s words, the senior grad student in the lab.” Mouse told me that “He gives me hope that I can graduate.” She was referring to Former Labmate’s famous (among grad students) work schedule. After more general discussion about being so close, yet so far. CanadianFriend informs us that she has bought an 18-month planner.* She was excited because it was the last planner that she hopes she’ll have to buy while in school.
This has me freaked out. Unfortunately it’s not in the wow-we’re-almost-done-and-everything-will-change way, it’s in the my-experiments-keep-not-working-and-I’ll-never-get-any-data-so-I’ll-never-graduate way. I’m in my fourth year and I don’t feel like I’ve made significant headway in the past six months. Any progress that I’ve made has been incremental (as in I overcome one problem in time to have another one take its place). Therefore, everything has taken a lot longer than I thought it would. When Advisor asks me how long something will take, I now think of the longest it would take me and multiply it by 1.5. That way I should be done with it by then.
This all dovetails nicely with my Imposter Syndrome. My fear of being found out as incompetent and/or stupid beyond redemption is not alleviated by this lack of progress. Recently my imposter-ness has been in the forefront of my mind because we’ve had a seminar series on career development. I mentioned this to Advisor and he said, offhandedly, that he’d be willing to discuss my career at anytime. So, now I’m trying to muster the courage to talk to him about future career plans. I say ‘courage’ because the response that I fear is something along the lines of: ‘Get out now before you waste any more time.’ But I’m sure that he would’ve asked/told me to master out if that was the case… right?
*Average time in our program is around 5 years. Most advisors in our program try to make students adhere to such rules.
I’m still here and alive and worked for 33 hours last Thurs/Fri. The top two things on my agenda right now are (1) Salvage Protein Experiment and (2) Make Progress on Yeast Experiment. I’ve been working on those two things. I’m fairly certain I’ll fail on 1 and have to start over (que sera) and I’m succeeding on 2 (thus far). If I’m 50% successful (obviously, with different things) all the time, then I’m fairly certain that I’ll eventually graduate.
Anyhow, the point of this post really is alleviate the posting pressure* and to give me something to do during 5 minute incubations.
*I have this cycle where I’ll not post for a while and then when I think about posting something, I won’t think that it’s good enough to post after a long silence. So, I won’t post it and I’ll wait for inspiration to strike. That doesn’t happen and the non-posting time gets longer. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Very sleepy. I spent 16 hours here yesterday/early this morning. Now, I’m here again to assay my fractions and see if I have any protein. I swear I’m going home early today. I swear.
One of my dear friends just had a miscarriage. My heart is breaking for her. I know how much she wanted this baby. I’m too far away to go and visit her, but I’d like to send something (a card, flowers, something). However, I don’t know what would be appropriate or even what she’d like in this situation. So, I’m turning to you all. Any ideas?
I had the opportunity to go to Public U.’s football game this past weekend. I like football, Dr. Man likes football. It was a win all around. We bundled up and headed to the game. The seats we had were so-so, while they were not up in the nosebleed section, they were not optimal for viewing the field. But they were in the stadium and that was what was important.
We arrived early to see the team take the field and watch the pre-game stuff. We took our seats and stood for the appropriate cheering (and booing) as was necessary. However, we refrained from standing on the seats, because that is (1) dangerous and (2) obstructs the view of the people standing behind us. Part way through the first quarter, a few (possibly partially intoxicated) young students came to sit in front of us. That was fine. Until they stood up on their seats. I politely asked them to step down so I could see (I’m short-ish and would prefer to be able to see the field, not their butts). They not-so-politely refused and told me (and I quote), “Get an officer, if you don’t like it.” Hence, I did.
The moral of the story: Do not mess with a grad student who has not seen the outside of a lab in four years.
Corollary: Do not make idle threats.
Secondary Corollary: Do not invite law enforcement officials to your seat, if you have been drinking illegally.
Why is it that I have so little faith in myself?* I made a really stupid mistake in the lab today (accidentally dumped a sample that I sort-of cared about) that really won’t set me behind very much (maybe by a day or a few hours). Somehow this is indicative of my entire laboratory career and, ergo, myself. It’s not as if no one has ever screwed up before (or as if I have never screwed up before) and, usually, it ends up being fine. So, why is it that this relatively minor mistake is such a big deal? It triggered all sorts of feelings of incompetence and idiocy. When, objectively, I’m neither of those things (ok, it’s not that I have a big head or anything– I asked CurrentLabMate). And yet…
This does mean an end to my cozy little work schedule, though. Alas, it was over before it began.
* Dr. Man says that he has faith in me. In fact, he has many faiths in me: Christianity, Buddhism…
Bless me internet for I have sinned, I am a bad grad student.
I took the entire past weekend off from the lab (I was here yesterday, though). Yep, I took two whole days off from lab work. I didn’t even do any work-related reading. It was glorious. I did nothing and it was everything I thought it could be. Instead of going into the lab, I did the following:
As a consequence, I felt wonderful on Monday and today. I was very productive (for the first time in a while) in the lab yesterday and today. This new-found productivity has made me decide to change my work schedule. From now on I will be in lab for no more than 10 hours a weekday or 5 hours on the weekend and take at least one entire day off a week. If it takes me an extra few months to graduate, so be it. Hopefully, this schedule will keep me more productive than my previous one (and, hopefully, I’ll be able to stick to this schedule).
Now, all I have to do is to figure out some time to exercise and I’ll be doing great.
I’m so fucking burnt out.
I wrote that on Friday. After that I just couldn’t go on. I had nothing to say that wasn’t some variation on I work all the time and other people around me don’t do that and I still don’t have enough data and I’ll never graduate and I want to quit. Shortly after that I had somebody tell me that if I can’t deal with the time commitment, the soul-crushing loneliness, and the feelings of failure, I should just quit.
I’m still pretty pissed about that. Maybe I’m not cut out for this, but (there’s always the but) I can’t think of anyone who hasn’t felt that way at one point in time. Grad school is hard and it does suck at times. And it is lonely at times. So, my suggestion to those of you who can’t, at the very least, offer a half-mumbled encouraging word is to just make a non-commital grunt and walk away.
Because you’ve just lost a friend.