My Educated Madness

This caricature, by the way, is Amanda’s interpretation of me in all my devilish and intelligent insanity. It will be my bio portrait at Swank Puppy when the site is up and running. And, yes, Amanda is available for commissions. Just follow her blog.

If possible, I am actually much sicker today than yesterday, and, even better, I slept in wet hair last night so my appearance this morning rather resembles a sea-hag more than the Svengali above.

I spent a few more hours yesterday working on my field comprehensive exam list, and I was getting pretty darned excited about the process, too. I emailed my advisor, as I was feeling like I should let her know I was still on the case (as I had the feeling the list was due this month or so), and I was feeling pretty OK, having picked 40 pieces of pretty interesting quality.

But I received this disheartening email this morning: “I am unsure why you are working on this. Please concentrate on preparing for your first comp, as this list isn’t due until January.”

Ah! Nothing like getting e-slapped down first thing in the AM!

Well, if I could reply to this truthfully, and without bawling, I could tell her that:

(a) I am not preparing for my first comps because I only have seven of the stinking books, five of which I have already read, and because I am poor and cannot afford cough syrup let alone 30 more books, due to the fantabulous and luxurious (lack of) funding provided by this over-grown high school.

(b) I was not told a due date for this list, and I thought it was reasonable to assume sooner rather than later, as next term I will really have to be preparing for the first comp (which is in early January), and have nothing but time on my hands now.

and

(c) If she doesn’t give me direction, she is quite without the right to snark at me if I take my own initiatives.

Instead of any or all of these perfectly valid answers, I wrote back, “Oh, I see. Thanks for letting me know. I thought it was due soonish.”

Yes, I sniveled like the dog I am.

The academic equivalent to "YES SIR, MAY I HAVE ANOTHER!!" Ah, how I missed the advisor-inspired bowing and scraping of yesteryear... And just think, my back was starting to straighten again.

Oh well, only three more years until I am done, so as long as I don’t get permanent scars on my belly from crawling more than once or twice a term, I think I’ll be OK.

I’m going back to Benny today, and I will endeavour to forget my advisor, forget my cold, forget my list, and forget my empty bank account. Frankly, chewing over gripes is not making me feel any better about my life, which, I must admit, is not all that bad from a rational point of view (and is spent in a school that I like 90% of the year). Sometimes concentrating on the problematic sides of your life, with no foreseeable solutions to said problems, is of no value.

In sum, I don’t have a cure for poverty, advisor misunderstandings or the common cold, so what is the use of thinking about any of those things?

However, writing a paper? That I am a pretty dab hand at by now.