First full fledged panic attack about grad school happened today.
God bless my professors, all of them wanting to set "realistic expectations" for me.
Getting a job as a professor is nearly impossible, they tell me.
Especially in the humanities.
Especially as a white male.
I also found out today that even with my 4.0 and an excellent GRE, I still have a slim chance of getting into a good grad school because my present university does not have a lot of national recognition.
I still have a year and a half of undergrad left. Then two to three years for my master's. Another two to three on top of that for my doctorate.
And I am already 33.
Is this what I want to be doing for the next ten years?
What else would I do?
What else can I do?
I don't want to think about it tonight.
5:42 p.m. - 2014-02-20
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
I remember me. - 2014-10-17
The Paper - 2014-10-13
A Post About Not Doing Anything - 2014-10-12
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
i-lost-sarah
aryssa90
newschick
stardumb
hexes
gonzoprophet
meffinmisfit
cybers1ut
the-grey-one
movingsands
dangerspouse
unowhatilike
silverluna
elusive-you
tobehis
kenny-loo
brothasistas
my-rant
is-life
godsintimate
ruby--sky
creme-egg
darkly-blue
reevo
similar
dooki
dagkyo
obijuan
buddyboy5
u2october
nudeplatypus
mojo1915
baby--girl
cindylou03
alwaysinhim
greenstar7
krunkjazz
dudemanflab
spittingame