27 and a PhD

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3 not 2

Welcome to my blog!

Hello there, awesome reader. My name is Dr. 27. I'm older than that now, but I'm staying faithful to the origins of the blog.

This blog started 2 months before completing my PhD in a pretty southern university back in 2009. It was a way to practice my writing and take a break from all things thesis. My PhD is in a branch of structural biology where I studied some rather impressive stuff.

After completing the degree, I packed my life of 6 years in 3 days and moved to Canada to do a postdoc in a completely different field. Two years later, and after attending a lot of seminars, workshops and doing some much-needed soul-searching, I ended up getting out and looking for an alternative path to academia and industry.

The blog chronicles my mishaps, ideas, musings and tips on entering, staying and finishing grad school. It also talks about some (or a lot) of personal stuff. For a while, the blog became a place to talk about the frustrations of not knowing what to do after PhD. I wanted to explore alternatives to the traditional paths of research (academia, industry and goverment) whilst going back to my field of training (if at all possible). Eventually a job materialized. Follow my quest as I navigate the waters of being a staff scientist at a core facility.


March 2011
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It’s 3 job prospects that fell through in a matter of 24 hrs. One due to bureaucracy and 2 because there are always better candidates out there. This does not take into account the previous prospects of back home, which were 2. So 5 in total.

I’m trying to keep in mind that I wasn’t meant to be at those places, but it still stings. I had my own pity party yesterday and will be in a nasty mood for the next couple of days, if not weeks. That’s just how I deal with it.

I know I have to keep applying and keep a positive attitude. But it is fucking hard, and I hate life right now, I hate applying for jobs, I hate putting myself and my CV out there for all the fucking world to judge. I feel like fucking curling up into a fucking little ball and giving the fucking finger to all the fucking world. My feelings can be best summarized by the lines from the “When in Rome” move with this Bell chick and Josh Duhamel when she says at the Gugg museum that every time she’s put herself out there and loved someone she’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it always does (I know, tacky … fucking bite me, I don’t care). Well, this fucking cycle of interviews and job applications feels like that and I just can’t handle anymore rejection. I’ve decided to end my research pain by quitting in a few weeks, regardless of whether there’s even a tiny bit of hope for another job. This means that I’ll be jobless. I’ll be prepping my parents, in case I need to go back home as that’s my only contingency plan. Hon is still a student, and his salary is very tiny, as he’s not in the “hard sciences”. He simply can’t cover for me, and since I am an international postdoc, the option of unemployment is … well, not an option. I’m going to try to sell a few things, including my car, to see if I can generate some money to cover my expenses while I look for other options. But like most folks out there looking for a job, the market is bleak. I don’t have any more interviews lined up, only waiting for the answer of the last two places, which I’m not very hopeful of an offer at either place. Thus, I am back to actively looking for a job, but I’m tired and not in the mood, so it will be a slow process.

I may be off for a few days, if not weeks while I focus on finishing and salvaging whatever I can on my postdoc and moving back home if nothing else happens.

Thanks for staying tuned.

PS. Comments are disabled. I really don’t feel like interacting and blogging or answering comments on the blog for the time being. My apologies.

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