I feel overwhelmed. I think, somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach, underneath the ball of insecurity and unsureness and stress, is a hint of hope and confidence. I do good work. I do relevant work. I do exciting work. At least, I think I do. I hope I do.
I’ve got two weeks ‘til the next set of applications are due, time to regroup and further perfect. But my god, I’m scared. I’m so, so scared.
I just need to get into one school. Just one. If I don’t, I’m not sure what I’ll do. But I can do it. I can. I hope.
I just applied to my first PhD program.
But it’s really fucking up my plans to get my first PhD applications submitted tonight.
I know it sounds whiny and bratty to be so bent out of shape for this, but I only have a couple more days until the deadline arrives and it’s taken A LOT for me to feel confident enough to submit these applications right now. I’m terrified of not getting accepted anywhere; this is my life, my career, my entire future riding on these sets of digital papers. This is not graduate school to get a degree I need to get a job — this is graduate school so that teaching at the university level and publishing as an academic IS my job. I’m so unsure of myself, cautiously optimistic and scared out of my wits, to have something like a fucking internet outage damper my one surge of confidence… is devestating.
And really, really fucking annoying.
I washed it for I think the first time in the 5 years since I took it from my parents’ house. Yeah, I know, that’s gross. Grossness rectified.
Now it’s warm and I woke up way too early this morning. Nap time for me!
I think Guilty Kitchen just taught me how to make my own nutella. Life will never be the same.