PhD Ponderings

Ponderings #19 - Oh no!

PhD Ponderings: Oh no! It's Here!

Well, the day has come. I knew it would. It was inevitable. Instead of sitting around moping and crying my eyes out, I might as well tell you what it is.

I'm now officially in my seventh year.

There, I said it. No taking it back. It's out there, in writing.

How am I holding up? Ok, all things considered. It's like turning a year older, it doesn't hit you until you meet other people and realize they're all babies.

It's a funny thing about getting older as a grad student. To me, incoming grad students look like toddlers - their baggy pants like diapers, their bottles of water, their copious free time to play with toys and take extended naps.

Instead I am one of the ancient ones. I've gone past the stage of wisdom (Yoda-like grad student whom others come to for advice) to senility. The other day I did an entire experiment before realizing I'd done everything backward. Soon I'll be writing papers of nonsense and creating posters worthy of being called "abstract art."

The thing about turning a year older in grad school is that there's no party. Why doesn't anyone give us seventh-year grad-day presents? Why isn't there a special five-year award of diplomas? Why don't we down seven shots and get seven grad-day bumps and blow out seven candles? For that matter, why don't we get seven honorary papers?

While I'm dreaming, might as well graduate, too.

As it turns out, we have thesis committee meeting forms to fill out after every meeting. There's a new entry in the latest version: "If the student is entering his/her seventh year, please provide an explanation." Are they trying to humiliate our committee members into letting us graduate?

Ah, that dreadful G word is out there. That dirty little word hiding in the back of everyone's mind. It used to be that parents and non-grad-student friends and distant relatives asked when I was going to graduate. Now the situation has escalated. It's an epidemic. An orange alert.

Suddenly postdocs and faculty members and technicians and interns are all asking: "So, are you finishing soon?" (variations like "When are you getting out of here?" and "Almost done, huh?" and "Why aren't you done yet?" and "What the (bleep) is wrong with you?" also make the top five list).

And what can you say? "Oh, any day now..." is just stalling, anyone knows that. "I'm just waiting for my thesis committee to give me the go-ahead" is a cop-out. Say "Just one more year!" and they'll know you're lying. There's only one sure-fire answer, guaranteed to stop them in their tracks and never ask again: "Never."

Just say you plan on being a grad student forever, and you'll evoke a whole lot of sympathy. Imagine this conversation:

Random person: "So, when are you finishing grad school?"
You: "Oh, never."
RP: "Never?"
You: "Never ever."
RP: "You're staying in grad school forever? What will you do?"
You: "The same thing as always - get paid nothing, live in the dungeon, eat free food, and sleep."
RP: "Sounds like fun, sign me up!"

Of course that will never happen. Probably because RP makes a hundred times what you make (wait, 100 times zero is zero...) and gets a lot more dates. Hence, RP never has to eat free food or sleep.

So, that leaves me with the conclusion that being a seventh year sucks. But someday, far in the future, in my four-hundred-and-ninth year of grad school perhaps, I will look back on this seventh year with fondness, and laugh.

Happy Labor Day (as if...)