The Job Market

Today, a mutual follow and fellow PhD student on Twitter let the world know about her post-PhD plans. A A post-doc at Oxford followed by an assistant professorship. She also overdid the platitudes about how lucky she is to get a post-doc and job in a brutal job market. Of course, luck plays a huge part, but so do academic networks. I felt a stab of jealousy and irritation, but it soon passed. I am gong to try to stay in academia, but the longer I spend on the job market, the more I feel I am not cut out for academia. I don't mean that I am not smart or hardworking enough. I mean there seems to be little space to do the kind of interdisciplinary work I am interested in. Academia feels like a machine whose primary function is to reproduce existing knowledge and ways of thinking rather than creation of new knowledge. Is there any other profession that is as self-referential and insular as academia? I am not interested in research questions that academia is asking, and academia is not interested in the research questions that I am asking. Neither am a member of any of the cliques that heterodox economics is rife with.I came across a post by a fellow grad student who has quite the academic job market, which echoed with me. The writer had found precisely one job which was a reasonable fit with his research area. A quote from his post. 'First, I think its an intimate illustration of the market forces under which our generation operates. Some of us are lucky and can benefit from old structures. but, the vast majority of us will have to build new structures for ourselves.'

F&P (Fortitude and Patience)

 I wonder which is a better training in patience and fortitude--doing a PhD or suffering from a chronic injury? I am in the home stretch of my thesis, so my PhD is not drawing on my F&P reserves as much as it was a few months ago. I am also enjoying it as ideas brewed over months and years are coming together to form a coherent whole. I wish I could say the same about my elbow and shoulder. With every new exercise or stretch my physiotherapist teaches me, my shoulder feels better after a few days, but then the improvement seems to peter away. I am often consumed by the urge to change physiotherapists. ONe part of the reason is that it has become difficult to believe that my shoulder will ever get better. Is that common with conditions and injuries that have lasted a long time/ That have changed how I move my body, the exercises I attempt, the postures that once seemed like second nature to assume but which I religiously avoid now? So, basically, am I going to physiotherapy just to do something, do anything about it? To stave of the guilt of not doing anything? Maybe. but, I am scrupulously doing all the exercises she has asked me to, and following her instructions to the T? What else can I do? Nothing else, and I shouldn't try to do anything more. I am paying her to worry about fixing my shoulder. yes, it is expensive and there is a chance I will spend a good amount of money with nothing to show for it. So what/ This is not the first time I have spent money on a futile project and it won't be the last. When I know its time to look elsewhere for treatment, I will know. Or, maybe she will tell me. Until such time, I must try not to think about it. F&P.

British Summer Time Begins

 When the clocks went back last autumn, we were on the cusp of another lockdown. I always knew this winter would be difficult but anticipation is not the same as preparation, if anything could have prepared me for it. January was the most difficult time for me since Covid struck. It was the worst I have felt since the my tryst with depression. But, things started to looking up in February and life has been on the upswing. I had two weeks of teaching 10 hours, and not only did I manage to get through them without burning out, the students loved me. I have realised that I have gift for teaching and I hope I will be able to continue in academia. As the clocks go forward, I am feeling optimistic about life. I still have to finish my PhD, and the job hunt could take weeks, months or years, but I am not losing sleep over it. As always, I did the special winter yoga session to mark the change of season. It is a wonderful session but the next time I do it will be when the clocks go back next autumn. As an atheist, one has to come up with one's own rituals. The weather hasn't been very spring-like but its just a matter of time. There is a spring in my step already. 

Not to Blog For The Sake of It

As a creature of habit and self-discipline, it is difficult for me to skip some aspects of my daily routine such as yoga and blogging, Often, I spend ages in front of the screen in the evening figuring out what I should blog about. Not ideal, because I am trying to reduce my screen time in the evenings. Often, I end up writing some faff just so that I can tell myself that I blogged that day. I am trying to get out of the habit of blogging for the sake of it. To save blogging for the days I actually have some food for thought. There is such a thing as ovver-reflection (which is a post for noather day). 

Clicking Sounds

 I have noticed over the past few weeks that what bothers me most about my shoulder injury is not the pain but the clicking sounds my shoulders and chest make. The pain is mild, but every time I hear the clicking sounds, my heart sinks. I feel like I have become a bit obsessed with not letting my chest click, so every click feels like a sign of failure. It has occurred to me that the reason my shoulder is taking so long to heal is that I am trying too hard. Sometimes, I do my shoulder exercises with an air of desperation. I really need to back off and stop myself from thinking about my shoulder unless I am doing my stretches or exercises. Just like a watched kettle never boils, maybe a watched shoulder never. I need to trust my body and my physio more and stop thinking about my shoulder so much. 

One-year Anniversary of Lockdown

 The actual anniversary was yesterday, but I was already in bed by the time I remembered. Where does one even start writing about one-year of Covid lockdowns? The one lesson I hope I take away from this experience that firstly there is no "the" normal state of affairs, there is only "a" normal state of affairs. The definition of normal is "conforming to a standard or a norm". We often take normal as being synonymous with natural, so an abnormal life is often seen as an unnatural way of life. But, Covid and the lockdown has taught me that "a normal state of affairs" is conditional and precarious. The fact that norms don't change often doesn't mean they cannot change quickly. So, leading an abnormal life in terms of not having an active social or sex life, or not having a romantic partner, or finding most people boring is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. Abnormal doesn't equal unnatural and there are many ways to live a full and satisfying life. And, I have long maintained that social norms will need to change, what it means to have a settled life will have to change if we are to have even an outside chance of confronting climate change. 

On A Bender

This week, I came close to burnout for the first time in months. Every evening for the past few days, a wave of fatigue would come over me. And, on Thursday evening, I felt like I was on the verge of falling ill. I had overestimated my capacity for work and I knew I had to cut myself some slack. In hindsight, it seems silly that I could teach for 10 hours a week and continue to work on my PhD at full tilt. I just couldn't bring myself to focus on my PhD. Since I had two classes to teach on Friday, I decided to drop everything else and chill as best as I could. I felt like I sometimes put off taking time off because I don't have too many friends or hobbies. But, I have realised one needs breaks nevertheless. One needs to do something else, anything else but work from time to time. So, I went on a but of a bender yesterday--beer pizza, a lot of chocolate and binge-watching were involved. This morning, I even felt inspired myself to work, but the motivation wore off midday, so I didn't push myself.