Wild Wood Wanderer

I have hit my mental low point for the day, which brings me to the inevitable paradox: To caffine or not to caffine? If I do, then I surely will sap every last bit of energy I have for one hour’s worth of concentration. If I don’t, then I will continue my downward spiral into unconsciousness.

Last week was horrible. I had the worst public review of my writing ever. My professor used my paper as a punching bag for every type of gramatical and stylistic writing he hates. He left no rock unturned as he went through the “in which’s” and”however’s” of my writing. If ever there was a time when I felt like I didn’t belong in graduate school, it was then.

There is no encouragement in graduate school. I knew this but didn’t really understand this fact until I came. There are no pats on the back, no congratulatory remarks for a well-thought point, no acknowledgements for trying. We spend all of our time critiquing an author on the flaws in their research, which probably took years to complete. Academia has the ability to demolish a foundation in one sweeping remark. It always looks at the glass half-empty: What didn’t they do? Why are they wrong?

Can someone please fill my glass back up???

Hello. This is my first posting every to any website. How trite that I should spend the first few moments acknowledging that obvious fact.

So this is my Big Bang, which, incidently, corresponds to the Big Bang of my head hitting my desk in frustration over a paper I’m writing. My professor has assigned an arbitrary topic to his grad students, to reach a goal of 20 pages and have extensive citing. Why? “Because I expect more out of grad students.”

I am at a crossroads. Do I turn the paper in early tommorrow for “a couple of extra points” even though it reaks of horrible third grader writing, or do I take the extra time and, by default, receive a lower grade??

I have chosen to respond by going uptown and procrastinating with a few friends I like to call during such hard times…beer and pizza. A few of the other geo grads came along too, after my poweful skills of persuasion convinced them that they will regret all the time they spent in their tiny cubicle in the grad office, wasting away in front of a paper no one will ever read. I like to think I’m a good friend that way.