In my infinite wisdom I have decided that  PhD needs to exist in my life.  Really??  When I was younger I never would have dreamed of going for a PhD.  PhDs were reserved for people who split atoms or who really like Beowolf.  In lamens terms: Really, really, really smart people (now known as the “not me crowd, or NMC).  The only type of doctor I thought I would ever be was a Doctor of Awesome.  The NMC seemed like this exclusive club and unless you received a personalized, hand-written invitation there was no point in even considering knock knock knocking on the front door or trying to break in through the back window.  And yet, even with all of the seperation I had put between myself and the NMC, here I am with a crumpled piece of paper with seven schools written on it.  My list…My potential schools list.  I have even made contact with some professors at these schools.  The list and the GRE Subject Test registration form make this whole, “Holy shit, I could maybe possibly one day be Dr. Goldfarb” thing so incredibly, insanely, scarily real.  Suck on that, NMC.

I haven’t even officially started the PhD application process but I can already tell that it will be, for lack of a better word, a bitch.  Yup…it’s gonna be a big, honking female dog.  Probably one of those chinese cresteds that always wins the Worlds Ugliest Dog award: Unpleasent to look at, warrants pity from all directions, and if not successful, then just plain pathetic (yup, pulled that one riiiight out of you know where. but it works-ish).  I have seen people apply to PhD programs of all varieties, get accepted, not get accepted, not get accepted encore, successfully complete, and worry if it was all a big mistake.  Even with the distinct possibility that 1) I may not get into any schools on the first application go around and 2) If I get into and actually complete a program I may not get any jobs when I finish, I plan to apply.

Why (you ask, hands clenched, hearts racing)?  Because I want to learn (STOP THROWING TOMATOES!!).  I swear!  It’s the gods honest truth.  While filing is fab and Excel is Excellent, the idea that I could be paid (albeit meagerly) to research and discuss the things I am really interested and passionate about is too good to pass up.  A life that ends at 5:00pm and does not require any overtime work sounds awesome on paper, and for the past couple of months since finishing my Masters, I have found that it actually is awesome.  However, if I stopped here…stayed here…accepted this…not only would I be bored by Kwanza, but I would also be that 80-year old who should have done that one thing but never did and oh no look she just pooped in her pants.  When the inevitable “WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP ME WHO DOES THIS ALL I WANT IS TO WATCH GILMORE GIRLS RERUNS AND TAKE A 6PM NAP!!!” blog post appears, don’t throw this next statement back in my face:

I want to have busy days filled with research, reading, writing, stress crying/eating/BMs, and teaching!!

While some people hide in graduate school, fearful of the “real world”, I am actually hoping that the world of the PhD and higher education becomes my real world.  In the meantime, while I give my brain a little rest before diving into 16-syllable words and 8,000 page articles, I will be reading…

...the most intellectual text written ever by anyone

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