To PhD or not to PhD

Ugh, I want to go back to high school when the guidance counselor said "If you go to college then you can get a job anywhere!" BULLSHIT! I have been in school for 21 years, TWENTY ONE YEARS!!! I did the high school thing, I have a BS in Political Science, I'm finishing my MA in American Studies, and have ZERO job prospects due to many factors. The main factor is that I choose a field that I enjoyed studying. That is what I was TOLD TO DO! I was told to go into a field that I would love to due so that my career would be fun and enjoyable!!! So now I had a good time learning about a field I love but that there is no way I will be able to get a job in. I'm not saying I'm unqualified I worked really hard at school, I have a 3.89 GPA, I've presented at conferences in the US and in Europe.

Now, after $75,000.00 in student loans, that I have no idea how I will be able to pay back, I have to face the choice of either going to continue my education and get a Doctorate or not. The pros include a slightly better chance at getting a job and possibly a job as a professor at a university. The cons involve not getting a job and having over $100,000.00 in student loans. That doesn't include the cost it would take to move to the PhD program I got into (anywhere in any of the 50 states). Starting ones life over again in a new town where you know no one would also be a strain.

I'd love to sign my name with a PhD. at the end of it but there is a lot to consider. This is one of many problems people my age are facing. Chalk it up to another Quarter Life Crisis issue.

Three Days No Sleep

I haven't slept in three days. It's not because I'm trying to prove anything but the way my schedule played out from Monday night to Thursday (as of right now) I have yet to sleep. I'm really, really ready for bed. Sometimes this is the price you pay for a Graduate degree, money to pay for your apartment and car (as well as the "little" things a.k.a. food). I'm looking forward to the ballet on Sunday, the Nutcracker, my sister is performing and Lynne (the roomie) and I have free tickets. The one thing I have learned in life is that if you get a free pass to any type of "art" then one should take it. It's like we are Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman" and Richard Gere is taking us to the opera...except we're not red heads, hookers, L.A. residents...we're blonde/brunettes, grad/phd students, & PA residents...

Going to bed

K

Upsetting Finds...

I work a lot of over night shifts, 11pm till 7am. It's not hard, I really enjoy my job. Today, however, I couldn't go home right away to go to sleep. I had to come to the library at school (Penn State Harrisburg) to work on my final paper for 18th Century America (topic: Republican Motherhood). All I had been thinking about in the last hours of my shift was going to Dunkin' Donuts to get a large coffee (three cream; two splenda) and a multi-grain bagle with veggie cream cheese. That is ALL I wanted!! I got in line (horrible at the Carlise Pike DD because of the location) [p.s. DD= Dunkin Donuts, to me it also = Domestic Disturbance, Drunk Driving, & Designated Driver; make your best choide per the context of the topic at hand]. I'm on the road and I take a bite of my delicious bagle when I see out of the corner of my eye a small black hair!!!! FML! I now can not eat that half of the bagle. It's tainted to me. Finding a hair is the worst when you are really hungry and really craving something. I have little money folks, I don't get paid a lot and I have a car payment and an apartment to pay for. It's not like I can buy another bagle and the Carlise Pike makes it impossible to turn around and go back to your destination. So I chucked the bagle and went to my coffee, so far no hairs have been found in the drink.

This reminds me of the worst time I found hair and a dust bunny in food that I ordered. I was on my way to pick up my sister at the Baltimore/Washington Airport. I was hungry but waited till I got her to stop for some food. We got off an exit that assured me that there were placed to eat but after a 5 minute drive off the freeway we were still looking for a fast food place. Finally we found an Arbys and ordered a sandwhich and those loaded potatoe bites! We each had a potatoes bite and when I went for a second there was a huge dust bunny with human hair all over!! HOW THE F**k can you miss that? I understand one hair but if your job revolved around filling a small carton of loaded potatoe bites you really messed that shit up. Luckily we were still in the parking lot so I marched in and asked to speak to a manager. He wasn't even fased. In fact he didn't apologize but just gave me a new order of loaded potatoe bites...

I may be in the middle of a quarter life crisis but if I was a fast food worker I'd at least do my job correctly...

My First Apartment

So it begins. I've done the whole living at college (even spent one hellish year in a sorority house) but I have been living at my parents now for two years since the big graduation day. I am moving into my own apartment. Now when I said "my own" I will be living with a roommate. Lynne is her name and she is a phd student at Penn State in the program I am in (American Studies). I think we will be good roommates because of serveral quirky traits we both share. We both prefer books to people at times. We both own all 10 seasons of the TV show "FREINDS". We have wierd Dinosaur fasinations...and so on and so on.

I'm fairly sure we have everything we need, save for a couch but I find as a soon to be 25 year old the concept of moving is daunting. You would think after thousands of years of people moving (think back to nomadic tribes) that we as a people would find an easier way to move rather than putting our lives into boxes and carrying said boxes into a truck or other large vehicles. Afterwards you remove the boxes and place them into their new home. It's a lot of "mans work" to say  the least. The fact that Lynne and I have to do most of this manual work ourselves makes me wish it was the 1950s (in America) and instead of moving all these things ourselves, Lynne and I could eat bonbons, play Bridge, and drink Gin while chain smoking. Oh well it's 2011 and this is one of the Quarter Life Crisis problems I face

Kendra