Those of us at WBWV (We Blog, We Vlog) use Penguin Awareness Day as a chance to vlog about an arduous journey we will be undertaking in the year to come.  In preparation for my vlog this year, I watched my video from last year. 2011 was not at all what I expected, but I spoke in vague enough terms that it almost sounded like I had some idea of what was coming.

A year ago, I was finishing coursework for my PhD and working two jobs (for a total of 55 hours a week).  I had just come to the end of a 14-month journey of getting myself out of credit card debt, and after working like a crazy person for all of that time, I was ready to slow down.

As difficult as it was to get myself out of debt.  As little sleep as I got.  And as many sacrifices as I had to make.  I loved that time.  I rocked those 15-hour work days.  I continued to do really well in school.  I even managed to do my hair every day and maintain two blogs.  I just kept getting better and better at doing more and more.  I was kind of amazed at myself and I didn’t mind the way it impressed other people.

I’m a perfectionist with an impostor complex, so I can’t even call myself a workaholic without thinking, “Well, someone sure thinks highly of herself!”  But the facts are that I’ve done really well in school since sixth grade, and at 28 have never not been a student working toward a degree. I have had a job since I was legally permitted to and have always worked way more than any of my friends.  The longest amount of time I have been unemployed in the last 11 years was a month in the Summer of 2008, and while I was searching for a job that July, I finished a 90,000 word novel.  In the last six years, I have almost always worked more than one job, and for the last three years that has meant working more than full time while being a full time grad student.

I don’t resent or regret any of this hard work, because it was all self-motivated.  It’s just that I was very aware that my self-worth was completely wrapped up in proving how hard I could work and if anyone so much as vaguely suggested that I wasn’t working as hard as I could be, it made me defensive and I would react by working harder.

There were some side effects (anxiety), but I was almost alarmed at how easy it seemed to just keep going a million miles an hour.  I decided to slow down less because I needed to and more because I worried that if I didn’t jump off the speeding train now, then I never would.  I said in my video that 2011 would be about learning how to do less even if doing more would sound great and look awesome on my CV.

So I got off the train.  Not all that gracefully.  I held on too long looking for the perfect place to land and then when I finally did let go, I hit the ground and kept rolling.  The challenge was not in doing less, but in doing less without losing myself.  I was nervous about all the time I’d have to spend with myself if I stripped away so many of the distractions.  I was worried that when I finally had the time to do the things I wanted to do, I’d fall apart under the weight of my own expectations.  I felt like the best version of myself, and I was scared that slowing down would me sliding backwards.

I know from experience that these concerns were all valid.  I think what saved me this time was that I’d worked so hard in 2010 to get out of debt that I no longer had anything to prove, to myself or anyone else.  I was satisfied knowing that I could continue to work that hard, but I didn’t have to anymore.  I felt free of my own ridiculously high expectations.  I was ready for something different.

Of course when I ran into a super ambitious classmate of mine and she said it takes everyone at least a semester to adjust to being done with coursework, I thought to myself, “Well, I can beat that.”  But when it turned out I was exactly like everyone else, I didn’t take it badly.  I’m in good company.

With this new level of self-assuredness, I will say that I think maybe I got awesomer this year.  I know I got happier.  It’s probably all the sleep I have time for now.  And I really don’t miss people looking at me like I’m crazy when I tell them all the things I’m doing, though I did get a lot of joy out of that.

It turns out that I know myself very well.  I am not good at studying on my own without deadlines.  I am a skilled procrastinator, and I really mean that.  I don’t waste my time like an amateur might; I do a lot of things I am very proud of.  The problem is that none of them get me closer (at least in obvious ways) to that big thing I have kind of been working toward forever now.  

This is not a cocktail party, so I’m not continuing to mention the fact that I’ve been reading a lot just to impress you.¹  It’s just that I’m kind of surprised by it.  No matter how many years of practice I put in, reading for fun is not a habit that came back to me as soon as I had a minute and picked up a book.  Even after I picked up a book, it still took several months, and I am not there yet.  I ask other grad students about their reading habits.  I am entertaining the idea of reading before bed as if it is an experiment I should approach with caution.

A few nights ago when I was walking home from work, I had the thought my 14 year old self wanted to believe so desperately: reading a lot makes me a more interesting person.  Right, except, not really.  I mean, not alone.  You keep reading, 14 year old Ashley, but don’t think that makes you better than anyone.  This is what’s going to happen: you’re going to become a real person with a unique perspective and a lot of thoughts, and all that reading will deepen those thoughts and make you better at articulating them, but the act of carrying around a book does not make you interesting.  Rory Gilmore is fictional!

What I’m getting at is that being a person is really important and it does not always keep pace with all the stuff coming at you.  See, for instance, my first two years of grad school.  I did not know who I was or where I was going, and that made everything really difficult.  I like that I am a person who takes what I study and read personally, but for a while that was really hard.

That time was important, and I know that a lot of life is being faced with things you are not prepared for, but I like that things I am reading now resonate on a different level than they did before, because I know myself better.  I think, “Why didn’t I read this book in high school?”  And then, “I’m glad I didn’t read this book in high school.”

One thing I was certainly better at in high school: writing by hand.  In another feat of advanced-level procrastination, I have been writing in my journal every day.²  Yesterday my hand hurt so badly that I was really excited to do my dishes, since it meant resting my hand in warm water.  I write nothing else by hand, and I’m starting to see why.  It hurts!

I have actually been doing all kinds of writing, which in my life has always been the thing I should be doing.  For many years, I even listened to a podcast called I Should Be Writing.  Reading Patti Smith made me think a lot about how much time I spend working on my art³, and then I realized that I already have a lot of momentum in this area, and please hold now while I pat myself on the back for that.

Just when you have forgotten what this post is about, I am here to remind you.  These are the things that I am doing.  They are awesome.  But they are not the things I should really be focusing on.  So I’ve been having a lot of conversations like this:

Coworker: “What are you reading?”
Me: [Holds up novel]
Coworker: “Is that getting you closer to passing your German exam?”
Me: No. [laughs]⁴

I need to finish my degree.  Not for any reason more important than I want to.  I like that these other things are part of my life.  I hope they are always a part of my life.  But I need to prioritize. School has always quite naturally been my top priority (behind being happy), and this is a really bad time for that to no longer be the case.

I made a decision over the weekend that was not about changing my plans, but rather putting them in perspective, and with this clearer (except here where it is totally vague) goal in mind, I am ready to do all that hard work that history suggests I am pretty good at.

1. What if I could call my blog a cocktail party?  How great would that be?!
2. I was inspired by Cait.  JEDIO (Journal every day in October), anyone?
3. I am so uncomfortable using that word, but I think that’s actually part of them problem.
4. This is a true story, but in retelling it I realize that it makes my coworker sound like a jerk.  He was just joking and he’s actually in the same boat and was also reading a book for fun.  I’m not sure if this coworker reads my blog or not, but in case he does, I just want to say thanks for putting up with me when I was in coursework.  I know that stressed-out me is not exactly the most pleasant person to be around, and you had no choice but to be around me.  I apologize for all of my glaring.

In all my years as a student, I have never been ready for a semester to begin.  They always seem to show up a little too early and just as I am getting used to spending my evenings eating cereal and watching Netflix. Or, for the sake of this post, something significantly less pathetic.  Like sipping wine and sailing.

Yesterday, I was alerted by the anxious feeling in my stomach that the semester had arrived.

My days of cereal eating and Netflix watching have probably not ended, but after a Summer of taking it easy (okay, while still working full time), I need to get serious again. It’s time to be a student.  A student who doesn’t want to be a student forever.

I keep thinking I’m returning to some routine I’ve had before, but actually things are all new.  I’ve spent most of the last six years working at least two jobs at a time and now I only have one.  I’ve spent the last forever taking classes, and now that’s over too.  I have all of this unstructured time to fill and I’m not used to that.

Whenever I express anxiety over life after coursework, people tell me that I’ll be great at it because I’m so disciplined and self-motivated.  Well, thank you people.  And I can see how it might seem that way.  But I am capable of procrastination that borders on complete avoidance.  Especially when faced with an overwhelming task I can’t even see my way into.

I mean, here’s my first task: learn German.  Actually, remember German, because I’ve studied it quite a bit in the past, but not in the last five years.  This task I have to complete by whatever deadline I set for myself.  Next: learn French and take that exam whenever too.  Then: study for six months to learn everything there ever was to know about theology and philosophy, so I can pass big scary exams either next year or in seven years when I get around to it (again, it’s up to me).  Finally: write a book (dissertation).

I like challenges.  I like goals.  I like working hard.  But I’m giving up a routine I’ve mastered for this whole new thing that I’m probably going to mess up for awhile before I figure out.  This is the part of the PhD that people don’t finish, but I guess if my extreme stubbornness is ever going to be used for good, it will be now.  I’m getting that ring to Mordor!

The strange thing is that the path I chose for myself at one point seemed like an outrageous and risky thing to do.  Getting a PhD in the humanities is pretty ridiculous.  Professorships are scarce and even if I get my dream job, I will probably make about the same amount as most people make right out of college, which is fine except that I will have spent an extra eight years of my life in school.

A really big predictor of whether or not you will get a PhD is whether your parents have advanced degrees.  Mine do not and though I could go on and on about how incredibly supportive they are now and have been through most of my life, I didn’t feel like they were completely behind my decision to go to grad school. I think they knew the reality of the situation, which was that I had no idea what I was doing.

It was a financial risk, I had only been studying theology for a year, I wasn’t sure if it was really what I wanted, and I didn’t know if I was talented enough.  I didn’t know things would work out.  I didn’t know I would ever be this happy with myself or my decisions.  I didn’t know I would spend most of my years in school also working full time.  I didn’t know I would recover from near financial disaster.  I didn’t know that I do have what it takes.  I spent at least two years daily considering running away from it all.

But lately I have been looking at my life and asking how I ended up in such a traditional track.  I mean, grad school isn’t all that different from what it’s always been.  I work full time in a library where I have benefits and paid time off.  I’ve lived in the same city for five years and the same apartment for two years.  I haven’t seen much of the world.  And more than anything, my life as it is right now is pretty much the way it will remain for the next several years.  I’m in the middle of things.  I have a lot of responsibilities that mean staying right here.

I look around and see people I know who are on the brink of huge life changes and I feel like I should be setting the world on fire too.  Not out of envy, but because that’s what I want for myself!  I dream big dreams and ask myself all kinds of challenging questions, but what I come back to is that I am still doing exactly what I want to be doing.  And I am also on the brink of big things.

It’s just that big things require hard work and it’s not all that romantic when you’re the one actually doing it.  I am moving as fast as I can, but sometimes it’s not fast enough to set fire in my wake.  More often it means sitting at my desk putting words together.  Not with a flower in my hair and a delightful tea cup next to me, but instead a headache and self-doubt and a cup of coffee bigger than my face (at least some of which I will spill on myself).

I romanticize the idea of having the courage to take over the world, but what I need right now is the courage to be still and take myself seriously enough to not just talk about my dreams, but actually work toward them.  I have a degree to finish, novels to write, and a Kilimanjaro to climb.  If you need me, I’ll be at my desk.

Not to break my arm patting myself on the back, but I finished my last paper yesterday, which means I am done with coursework!

I sometimes go out of my way to resist grad school cliches.   The bottom line is that it is hard, but it’s not impossible, and I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t absolutely the thing I wanted to be doing.  But, just as there are those times when I’m floating on air, thinking “this is why I do this,” there are also those times when I think, “why do I torture myself like this?”

I spent the last week writing 70 pages.  That’s a lot of time sitting focused in front of a computer.  Even to an introvert, it can start to feel very isolating.  At times I was willing myself just to keep going while the weight of the world was pulling me in every other direction.  You reach a point where each word is exhausting and you can’t even think that you have 20 more pages to fill.

I had that feeling of, “Ah, this is why not everyone does this.” (I think Alex tweeted sentiments similar.)

It’s physical.  Not exhaustion, but like having a dementor suck the life out of you.  I start to wonder how an empty person can have 20 pages worth of thoughts.  It leaves its mark in such a way that when I ask myself whether I would go back and relive any part of my life, I can only think, “Not if it means I have to do all that work again.  I mean, the papers!  So many of them!”

If I read this later, I am sure to think I was being far too dramatic, but it takes a while to recover from an encounter with a dementor.

It didn’t occur to me until now that all of this work I have done is something to be proud of.  Maybe it’s not impossible, but it takes tenacity (okay, so it’s really just stubbornness) to keep going not just paper by paper, but semester after semester and year after year.  It seems that as soon as you start a PhD, you immediately lose touch with any kind of prestige attached to it, but I am really proud that I am still here, smarter and better and happier than ever before.

It’s mostly the hard work that makes grad school feel like the kiss of a dementor, but it’s also that you have to put everything you are into it (perhaps especially when you study philosophy).  It doesn’t always give back in the most obvious ways, but I can’t imagine my life or myself without this experience.

It’s not over yet, but finishing coursework is a milestone that I wish to celebrate for at least a day (or a Summer) before looking at the huge obstacles still ahead.

I know that everyone must be thinking the same thing: how is it May already? It seems that last Summer marked the beginning of many things that would come to mean a lot to me over the year that followed.  I’m not quite ready to think I’m back here again, even if here is a great place to be.

I think I’ve mentioned often enough that this is my last semester of coursework.  Only one more week of classes and about 70 pages of writing separate me from life without classes.  There will be plenty of time later for all of the what do I do now posts, so for now I’ll just celebrate.  Wait, first I’ll get through the next two weeks and then I’ll celebrate.

I love-hate the way it happens that you only get to know that feeling of having confidence in something right before it’s over.  After years and years, I’ve got this coursework thing down, and now it’s time to walk into something completely unknown.  It wouldn’t be grad school if I got to actually feel good at anything for more than a minute. But, it’s okay.  I’m ready for something new!

And, hi, Summer!  I can’t wait.

I should focus first, though.  Did I mention the 70 pages of writing?  I can write a lot and quickly, but that is a lot a lot.  I’ve never written a 20+ page research paper that didn’t take a little piece of me with it.  Considering how many I’ve written, it’s a wonder I don’t look like Swiss cheese by now.

Before I get to the focusing, I just want to say thanks for your responses to all the blogging I’ve been doing lately.  You’re the best.  Also?  You look really nice today.  I’m just saying.

Okay, I’m going now.  Wish me luck ‘n such.

This post is like the book end to The Beginning of the End.

I was sitting in a professor’s office my senior year of college.  We had been discussing my paper proposal, but we were now at the point in our meeting where I either needed to say I had no more questions and leave or spill a few of the many thoughts running through my brain.

I decided to ask the question I’d been obsessing over: what happens after I graduate?

Looking back, it seems so painfully obvious that I was going to go to grad school, but I didn’t know that then.  And I was scared.  Not about growing up or paying bills,¹  but about continuing to challenge myself.

The thing is that college completely changed me.  I have always been liberal minded, but college took all of those things I thought I knew and broke them apart. Putting them back together the best I could, I became so much smarter and far more emotionally intelligent.  I don’t even know who I would be otherwise.

The thought of leaving this structured environment where I had to deconstruct every thought and make room in my life for the constant barrage of new ideas made me nervous.  Apathy seemed like my number one enemy.

This professor seemed the person to talk to, because this was his first year teaching, but if he had any answers, I don’t remember them now.  I just remember the way I felt then.   I didn’t resolve those fears, though.  I just went to grad school and delayed them for another five to eight years.²

So here we are now and I’m about to finish coursework and these same thoughts are running through my head.  I look at the people I know who are not still in school and sometimes I want what they have.  Especially on this very Saturday when I should be at the library studying, because I have three seemingly impossible projects to complete by Tuesday (probably the day you’re reading this).

Another big part of me doesn’t want that at all.  In the first place, of course, I love what I do.  In the second place, how do I keep myself from slowing down to a stop when I’m no longer living the life of a student?

Maybe I don’t really feel the same way I did sitting in that office all those years ago.  I have chosen a career that requires the kind of life I’m scared of leaving behind.  But, the fear of apathy still haunts, because I see it as a possibility in me.  I guess I have to trust that my undying impatience is enough to keep me moving.³

1. I really should have been more concerned with this, but I had always worked really hard and so the real world didn’t scare me.  Take a look at my debt blog to see me prove myself wrong.
2. We’re at the five year mark now, but it will probably be about eight years by the time I finish my PhD. Seven if I work my ass off.
3. My Dad and I have talked about this whole thing a few times over beers.  We both feel like it’s not enough to just read on your own or go see thoughtful movies or whatever.  You have to find people who care about the things you care about and who care about them as much as you care about them.

Something-itis

I have mentioned before that this is my last semester of coursework.  What that means is that after this semester–and after 20+ years of school–I will be done with classes.  This is scary for a number of reasons, but as a PhD student, the two that really strike me are: 1) I don’t know enough to be done with classes! and 2) What do I do now?  I was not ready and not ready and not ready, and then all of a sudden I was totally ready.  Of course I don’t know enough and I never will, and as for what I do now (other than language exams, qualifying exams, and a dissertation), I’m excited to figure that out.

It takes so long to finish a PhD in the humanities that we’re all at completely different stages, even if we started together. So I’ve been surprised to have so many people know this is my last semester of coursework and ask me about it. But, even that didn’t do it.  It wasn’t until one of my classmates, who is also in her last semester of coursework, told me she was experiencing senioritis or its equivalent that my focus started to slowly erode.  Whatever it is she has, I’ve got it now too.

It’s not so bad.  If I really had this school thing down to a science, then I wouldn’t be stressed out of my mind all of the time, but lets just say that here in year 24958, I am a really efficient student.  I may always fall a little short of my unreasonable expectations, but I know how to get stuff done.  The minute Spring Break ended, I was creating calendars and lists and plans to get myself to mid-May.  It may require a little more effort than usual to keep my eyes on the prize, but I’ll do what it takes.

And don’t let the fact that I’m writing this post instead of finishing a research proposal undermine any of what I just said.

I Live Here

In my post from the airport, there was originally a line about how I like to confuse people by referring to both Washington and Southern California as home, but at this point, California really is my home, and when I walked into my apartment Sunday night after being away for only a few days, I felt that.  My apartment is small–no exaggeration, tiny.  But, it’s mine.  And I still like knowing that even though I’ve lived on my own for a long time now.  It’s, I don’t know, perfect.  I’m writing this from work right now, and I’m just really excited to go home and, you know, be there.

Scrubs

In the last week, I’ve become addicted to the show Scrubs.  It’s not new to me, really, but I never watched it regularly in its original airing. My memory of it was the kind of (okay, very) snobby, it’s cute, but there are better sitcoms.  That still may be true, but it is very cute, and it has a heart!  I love anything that is earnest enough to show real feeling.  Sometimes the way it goes from ridiculous to serious is alarming, but I like that.

Thankfully, others agree, because when I left for San Francisco, I was just near the end of season one and when I returned two days later, I was just starting season four.  It’s always fun to have a show you’re excited to watch, but I usually have to pace myself, because dramas take an emotional toll (seriously, I am that ridiculous and this is why I watch comedies) and I do have things to get done (see above).

Ze Frank

I know that few of you know what this means to me, but this is the five year anniversary of The Show with Ze Frank. The only way I can adequately express how much The Show meant to me is to tell you that if I had three wishes, one of them would be to bring back The Show forever (it was just a one year thing that ended in March 2007).  Well, the second best thing has happened.  This year, Ze is posting an old episode of the show every day and blogging about it.  You might not care enough to read the blog, but even if you’re mildly interested, consider subscribing on iTunes (it’s free!).  It’ll be like working your way through the Bible in one year, but easier and probably more interesting.  The news may be from 2006-2007, but the jokes are still funny and the life lessons are timeless.   Consider it.

Epilogue

I totes finished that research proposal in case you were worried.  That’s one of my secrets of being a good student: never lose your fear of deadlines.  Because, hey, you’re not going to want to work on that thing later anymore than you want to work on it now.  Also, you would rather die than have Dr. Scary think less of you (that one might be specific to me). I should write a book of study tips.  I won’t really, but I could.

When I first started studying theology, I immediately fell head first into crisis.  That’s what happens when you question everything you believe for the first time.  Without the certainty I once possessed, it was a slow climb back to my feet, but I had the amazing fortune of ending up at the exact right school for me. The best place in the world to study the kind of theology that helped me find meaning again.

That was five years ago and a lot has happened since then.  Not everything that once brought me meaning now seems so convincing.  The content I still find beautiful and engaging, but I am no longer so confident we can really know all the things we claim to know.  There was no crisis this time; just the slow erosion of the ground under my feet.

I didn’t want to acknowledge it at first, but when it came time to write my Master’s thesis, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.  So I started at the beginning and questioned whether it really made a difference if there was a personal God or not.  I concluded that whether this God exists is ultimately unknowable, but that the constructive idea of a personal God still held a lot of meaning for me.  In other words, I am agnostic.  But, as for now, I still consider myself a Christian.

I had words to put with intuitions, but I was otherwise lost.  I grew complacent in my uncertainty.  I was in no hurry to fill the void and none of the obvious paths were attractive to me. With no clear perspective, it became difficult to write papers; sometimes I had to play the role of the girl who still held close to what she used to believe.

My love for theology faded and I began to doubt more and more that I would ever again feel strongly enough about a position to argue it authentically.  This didn’t make me the best PhD student, but I faked it with good grades.

Now, finally (okay, it’s only been a year or two), I’m starting to make meaningful connections again.  I’d like to think they are only more significant because I’ve been through this experience, but it’s frustrating to take two steps back with every one step forward.  It’s annoying that every one statement requires several qualifiers.  It’s easier to say nothing, but that’s boring and not an option in this field of study.   It’s a complicated world and my perspective is limited, but I’m finding my feet again.

Today I begin my last semester of coursework.  Student life as I know it is coming to an end!  Then the only thing standing between me and a PhD is language exams and qualifying exams and a dissertation and enough hours in the library to drive a girl insane.  In other words, a lot.  But, classes will be over!

At some point in the last year, I finally became ready to be done with classes, but it is scary as well.  I’m a structure person and after coursework, I will be responsible for managing all of my own time.  No one will be setting deadlines except for me. I fear I will become unbearable.

I will try to enjoy my last semester of classes, but even those of us who love school don’t love every minute of it. Forgive me if I start drinking to my last midterms ever, last class presentation ever, last class session ever, and then last finals ever.  Then I will be sad for a moment and then I will realize I haven’t seen the last of any of those things.

I will wait until then before I let myself think too much about what comes next.  Oh, but I see French and German in my future.

Here’s to apples and no. 2 pencils and college-ruled paper!  Or, more like, a laptop and many expensive books I will underline. Oh, and coffee.  Lots of coffee.

You know how I’m a full time grad student and I have two jobs, one of which is full time.  I start work at 9am and I get off work at midnight.  15 hours a day, at least 5 days a week.  And I’ve been doing this for about a year and a half now.

I kind of figured I’d just keep doing it until I couldn’t anymore.  I pictured some dramatic scene where I’m crying in a professor’s office or lying on the floor under my desk in the fetal position.   But, damn if I don’t just get better and better at it.  This semester I even managed to do it all with nice hair instead of falling into a tragic cycle of messy buns.

It’s really not that bad.  I’m happy.  I’m healthy.  I still talk to people.  I haven’t been defeated by anxiety.  I’m tired, but only in the I need sleep way and not the I’m exhausted by life way.

Not to imply that I pull it off perfectly.  I almost never do all of the reading for class.  I finish most of my papers within hours of when they’re due.  I never show up for work more than 30 seconds early. I say no to a lot of things.  I take too long to return phone calls.  I don’t always match. On Wednesdays, I usually end up eating chips for dinner. And I constantly feel like I am not doing enough.  But, if I’m being honest, most of these things would still be true even if I had all of the time in the world.

The part that gets to me is that I always have somewhere to be.  Mostly I just keep going without thinking much about it.  Once in a while I think about how nice it would be to just spend a random evening on the couch or to actually get enough sleep.  At its worst, I have to put off dealing with emotional things, because crying at work draws unwanted attention.  I’m sure this practice is responsible for the three (one, two, three) breakdowns I’ve had this year that were more unsettling than anything I’ve experienced before (and this sensitive girl is no stranger to tears).

It sounds bad.  Actually, to me it sounds ridiculous.  But, it’s worth it.  So obviously worth it. It’s about more than just this to me, but I’m about to pay off what was once a huge amount of debt.  A debt that would have taken me years to pay off if I was a more reasonable person.  It’s also been about the challenge of seeing just how much I can do; verdict: way more than I ever expected.  I don’t feel like I’ve given up much  to accomplish these things, because the experiences have been valuable and I’ve put myself in a position where I can now do something else.  It’s been an interesting period of my life and an important one.

What it comes down to is, though I could keep doing this for a really long time, I don’t want to.  I want to get more sleep and eat better meals and write fiction and go for long walks and read for fun and spend time in coffee shops and finish my degree and enjoy long phone conversations and exercise.  At least, I want to have no excuse not to do these things.  And, okay, I will still be a PhD student who works too much, so lets not get carried away, but my schedule is so rigid now that even a few extra hours would make a big difference.

A big goal of mine for 2011 is to find a way to work less (I sound so much like my dad right now that it’s freaking me out).  Practically speaking, this means quitting my part time job.  I’m not going to do it right away.  I haven’t gotten everything I can out of it yet and I want to build my savings first.  Before Summer for sure.  I’m ready to live with some breathing room, by which I mean sit-on-the-couch-doing-nothing room.

I am stressed out.  Finals, ahhhh!  Work, ahhhh!  Feelings, ahhhh!  Everything else, ahhhh!

As a result, last week was not the best.  I kept trying to have a good attitude about it all.  It felt within my reach if I could just find the right words to say to myself.  But, I couldn’t.  Or when I did, the effect didn’t last.

When I feel, well, anything pretty much, my first instinct is to deal with it on my own.  I figure there’s nothing anyone can say to make me feel better anyway.  And even if someone could write these papers for me, I’d want to do it myself.  I start thinking it’s me alone against the world.

It’s stupid!  I know that!  I forget it often, but I do know it.  No one can take away the stress or say the magic words to solve all of my problems, but as it turns out, I’m pretty easy to distract and cheer up.  And the internet did that for me again (for something like the millionth time) last week.  Thanks for that.

Then my mom texted me out of the blue to ask if I was okay and I got a card in the mail from my step-dad.  Those little things go a long way and they’re always a nice reminder to me that I should do the same for other people.

Two more weeks until the semester is over and it takes all of the Ahhhhs! with it.  Thank goodness!  Okay, but before then I may require a little more cheering up and many more distractions.  Please and thank you.

Election night and I’m sitting at my desk in the library watching the results come in.  It occurs to me that I was sitting in this exact same place two years ago doing the same thing.  Then it occurs to me that I will probably be in this same place, at this same desk, working these same ridiculous hours two years from now.  And then I get depressed.

This is confusing, because I like what I’m doing.  Why in the world would I get a PhD in the humanities if I didn’t love what I study?  This job I liked and felt very lucky to have two years ago and I still feel the same way about it.  I even like being busy.

But, I’m thinking now of all the things I’m trying to resist saying.  Maybe I resist them because they are not true.  Maybe they sound too cliche.  Maybe I’m just not willing to accept that they might be true.

This is my fifth year of grad school.  I’m almost 27 and I’ve never not been in school.  And the whole time, I’ve worked entirely too much.  Always more than anyone else I know and now so much that I’m actually embarrassed to tell people.

Here in the middle of a challenging week and with only more challenging weeks to follow, I need a break.  And not a break from school where I still have to work two jobs.  A real break.

And then I want to do stuff and go places and meet people and write novels.

I’m not throwing my hands up and running away.  I’m just thinking about how I want to live my life and maybe I don’t want to put everything off until I’ve finished my PhD.  Maybe I don’t want to spend next summer working too much, learning languages, and studying for exams just so I can say that I got this fancy degree before turning 30.

Doing something else, taking a break is actually something I could make happen if I decided it was what I wanted.  There are a lot of things about it that scare me.  Money, for one. But, more than that, the fear that if I take a break from school, I’ll never go back.  Not even for lack of discipline, but because I will decide it’s not what I want to do.  I am so stubbornly determined to get this degree that I will continue even if I decide halfway through that I’d really rather be an astronaut.

I’m also scared because I don’t know how to take a break or how to travel or how to keep from losing my mind in the face of free time. I need help, which perhaps gets at another something missing from my life.

For now I will take deep breaths when I can and drink wine on the weekends and remind myself that this is where I want to be, all while I lay the groundwork for a plan that stands in beautiful contrast to this working grad school life.

Nothing makes me feel quite so alone in the world like freak out levels of stress.

Things tend to look easier for me than they are, because I don’t make it obvious just how stressed out I am all the time.  I’m not putting on an act.  It’s more that I don’t want to talk about it.  I have this idea that talking about it will make me even more stressed out.

But then no one knows what’s going on with me and no one can help.  The weight of the world is on my shoulders and I have to figure it all out by myself.

And I do. figure it out. by myself. every time.

Except sometimes before I get to that point, it all spills over and with my phone at my fingertips, I can’t help but let the world know (via twitter) that “I am kind of freaking out with stress.”  But, only kind of, because I wouldn’t want anyone to seriously worry about me.

I insist that I am fine.  Not because I am, but because I will be.  I am not recovered as quickly as I expected considering I’m a little teary at my desk writing this.  Actually, quite a bit more than a little teary.  I’m good at downplaying.

Tomorrow, it will be better.  Tonight, it’s not.

I have chosen a life where I am constantly asked to do things I don’t know I’m capable of doing.  I’m talking about grad school mostly, but work sometimes too, and my personal life as well.  I work more than makes any kind of sense, the content of what I study often seems impossibly difficult, and whether with perspective they should or not, the stakes always feel incredibly high.  Like, I could completely crash and burn at any moment.

The weight of all of this crushes me sometimes.  Stresses me out to the point of making me sick.

If the facts were enough, I’d notice that I’ve never actually crashed and burned, and despite my regular anticipation of failure, I’ve achieved far more than I ever thought I could and on a level I didn’t think I belonged.   Under the weight of the world, I may always imagine easier paths I might have taken, but more all the time, I know I wouldn’t be happy with those lives.  It seems I like this craziness.

You don’t always get to choose how you feel about things, but this more than anything else feels up to me.  I can choose to let things pile on top of me and walk slowly with dread or I can attack the world with the knowledge that I can do this.  Dread is really so unproductive and joy-destroying.  I can’t help but fall into it sometimes, but I don’t have to stay there, because when I’m not dreading the stuff I have to do, I’m excited by it all.

So maybe I’ll just trade in my jeans and flats for a power suit and heels, and start being kick ass instead.

I hate to be completely unoriginal, but I love the Fall.  It’s my favorite time of year.  Southern California doesn’t pull it off very well, but I can pretend.

As last Fall approached, I was overwhelmed with feelings of dread.  I was nervous about starting a PhD and worried I’d committed myself to working too much, but what I didn’t tell anyone was that I was stressed to death about money.

This Fall is so different.  I can do the PhD thing.  I can do the work thing. And I am so close to being out of debt.  I’m still anxious about a lot of things, but mostly just excited.

Here are some of the things I have to look forward to this Fall:

• Amazing classes. This is my last year of coursework, so I was torn between taking the classes I’m most interested in and the ones that will better prepare me for teaching or, more immediately, passing qualifying exams.  I went for the classes I was most interested in, which means I’ll spend my semester studying death, atheism, and democracy.  It’s a weird thing I do here.

• Two-day weekends. I’ve been working six days a week since the beginning of the year, and I am not a fan.  Really long hours I can handle, but never having a break, because you have to spend your only day off catching up on sleep and laundry and homework is wearing.  It makes me feel like I’m on a hamster wheel.  This semester is as crazy as ever, but I somehow managed to pull off two day weekends and I will be defending them with my life.

• I get to see Vampire Weekend at the Hollywood Bowl in September. I do love Vampire Weekend and I have always wanted to see a concert at the Hollywood Bowl.  I forget that I used to be a very big concert goer in higher school and college.  It’s a habit I accidentally dropped when I became broke and left my concert buddy in another state.  This is my first concert in more than a year.

• Meeting bloggers. First Alex and then Bri.  If you’re going to be in the area, please let me know, because I’d love to meet you.  We just had our Southern California VEDA Meetup yesterday (video here).

• I’m going to Washington in October for a wedding. Maybe Southern California doesn’t do Fall well, but the Northwest most certainly does.  I won’t be there for long, but I hope to get a chance to visit my undergrad, because there’s a reason all of their promotional pictures are taken in the Fall.  Seeing my oldest friend get married will be pretty cool too.

• Getting out of credit card debt. I am doing everything I possibly can to make this happen by the end of the year, but the weird thing is that I’m not just looking forward to the end date.  I’m looking forward to these last four months of going for the goal.  I know no one believes me, but there’s a part of this getting out of debt thing that is actually fun.  All the same, I can’t wait to be out: to have accomplished what is probably the hardest thing I have ever attempted and to have my money be my own again.

• Whatever magic comes my way. My blog tends toward the things not going the way I want them to, because those are the things that occupy my mind, the things I need to work out in writing.  But, my life on the whole is pretty damn awesome and I am both happy and incredibly optimistic about the future.  I’m trying to keep my eyes open, because sometimes I get too focused and miss things right in from of my face.  I hope that life keeps throwing me awesome things, and I’ll try to do my part and be bolder in taking them on.

Summer ends and Fall begins for me next week. As much as any of the above, I look forward to writing all about it here on my blog.  VEDA has been a welcome distraction this month, but writing is my thing.

I survived my first year as a PhD student!  Finishing the semester required writing 55 double-spaced, 12 pt. Times New Roman, 1-inch margin pages in the last week, 45 of which I wrote in the last 4 days.  The final stretch was actually painful.  I feel like I lost a piece of myself in that last paper, because it took everything I had to finish it on 3 hours of sleep.  But, I did it.

I don’t know if Lisa realizes that she’s said to me at least three times in the last week, “I can’t believe you’re already finishing your first year of PhD School.”  (That is what we call it: PhD School.)  I can’t believe she’s graduating from law school.  I swear it was just yesterday that we were on Road Trip 2007, driving all of her stuff down here from Washington.  And a day before that we were starting college.  And that afternoon we were in high school.  And earlier that morning she was just the weird girl sitting next to me in 6th grade band.

It’s not just that time moves quickly.  I think we’re both a little surprised to be where we are.  We do talk about how disappointed our high school selves would be in us for not being married, for wearing clothes that don’t match, and especially for drinking regularly.  It’s strange to think that I’m not where I thought I would be, but I could never really picture that life anyway.  I couldn’t picture this one either.  I didn’t imagine finding so many things I care so much about or that I would be successful in pursuing them.  I never would have guessed I was this capable.

It’s been a dynamic school year. It probably appears from the outside that nothing has changed.  It might even seem that way here on my blog.  But, I feel very different.  I feel much more in control of my life and up to the challenge of whatever comes next. Even just eight or nine months ago my life was so full of dread and avoidance.  I was happy, but only because I was ignoring all of my problems.  It takes a lot of energy to suppress all of your fear and anxiety that way.  As the stress of this week started to affect me physically, I was reminded that I used to feel that way almost every day.

I’m much more excited about my life now.  I can finally see into my future.  It’s more than a question mark.  It’s the culmination of all the things I’m working on now.

The reality of being done with the semester and entering into three months that include free time has not yet hit me.  It feels weird just to be sitting here (at work) writing this instead of writing a paper.  I think I’ll adjust.

I know that last week it appeared that my blog had taken on an academic theme, but I swear it was all by accident.  It’s a part of my life I feel like I haven’t adequately represented here.  Maybe because I haven’t done enough reflecting on it myself in the two years since I found some direction in what felt like an ocean of doubt and insecurity.

This post is just to say that I am in the middle of finals, which for me means I am in the middle of writing three research papers.  The research paper is where great expectations run smack into a cold reality.  First, you’re always writing at least three at once.  Second, there really is no time to write them, because you have classes to attend and other expectations to meet.  Third, you never seem to have more than 15 pages of solid content, but somehow you have to meet the 20 page requirement.  Fourth, by this point in the semester you’re too tired to care as much as you should. There’s only one thing standing between you and a break and that’s an unfinished paper.  Fifth and largely unique to me, you’re still working an unreasonable number of hours and work is busier and more stressful, because everyone there is also in the middle of finals.

I can’t remember feeling less, I don’t know, bothered by finals than I do this semester.  All my talk about counting on success and enjoying the work I’m doing seems to have made a difference.  When it comes down to it, finals are still stressful and I’ll probably do an air kick when I turn in the last paper, but whether or not I can do it is no longer the question. After four years, I think it’s pretty obvious that I can do it.

And then there’s Summer.  I feel like I should be saying, “Summer.  Ahh.” Like I’ve just taken a seat in a really comfortable recliner or I’m looking at a picture of a cute puppy.  There’s that, but also “Summer. Ahhh!!!” which has more to do with me sucking at Summer, so that it never lives up to my high expectations.

Whatever shape my Summer takes, I can say that I’m looking forward to a (kind of) normal person schedule that includes some evenings free and weekends too.  I can finally watch TV shows when they actually air, right in time for them to all go into reruns.   My parents are coming to visit later this month.  VidCon is in July!  And there is fiction to be written!

I turn in my last paper on Thursday. Look for me then.

Edited to add: Okay, so I wrote this post more than a week ago, because that’s usually the way I blog and I knew I’d have no time this week.  Not really where I should be in my paper writing, but I’m getting there.  One down, more than half way done with the second, and I should be starting the third tonight.  Think I’m going to make it through sane and still loving school.

What I really wanted to tell you, though, was that after spending the day listening to Coldplay and thinking of all the things I’d rather be doing than writing papers inside while it’s gorgeous outside, I said last night on twitter that I was going to do more than just work this Summer.  I’m going to do Summer things!  At the urging of Mandy, who last Summer made famous her Summer of Me, I declared this Summer the Summer of Ashley.  Will be figuring out what that means once I finish these papers.  You knew I needed another project. Or, maybe this is an anti-project. Sounds fun either way.

This is what I want to say to myself: Really? I keep thinking that I cannot possibly take anything else on.  My life is entirely too full of stuff already.  And, then, something comes to my mind and I think, I have to be doing this right now! I could say when it rains, it pours, because that often seems true of the universe.  But, there really is no mystery here.  No cosmic forces beyond me.  It’s nothing more complicated than succeeding at something is empowering and when you feel empowered, waiting is just silly.

Last week, I was listening to one of my professors give a lecture and I had this realization that I have grown unhappy with my academic life.  I’ve grown stagnant.  I’m lost, but not seeking out new directions.  There are so many people in my life who want to help me succeed and I’m not taking advantage of any of them.  I’ve let grades be my measure of success and so I haven’t been forced to take any initiative in finding my place in the academy.  In order to focus on other things, I have taken a getting through is good enough attitude to academics.

I’ve been in grad school long enough that it’s hard for me to gauge what people who are not part of this culture know about it.  I know that I was surprised to learn a lot of things.  Like, who you know is pretty much everything, so you’ll get nowhere unless you network.  And if you’re getting an academic degree like me (and not a professional degree like a JD or MBA or MSW), then there is an incredible amount of pressure to be something unique.  You have to produce original work that other people think is interesting and important.

It strikes me writing that it’s a strange life I lead where my career revolves around figuring out what I think about things.  That’s the amazing and maddening thing about studying philosophy.  I have thoughts like this that just seem so strange or I’ll be sitting in class and suddenly have a moment of perspective where I think of how weird it is that we all meet once a week to discuss things that have been debated for two thousand years as if we’re going to finally find the solutions.  I’m having a hard time putting my grad school life into fiction, because in so many ways, it’s not that different from anything else.  But, in other ways, it goes even beyond the stereotypes to near complete absurdity.

This is the absurd life I’ve chosen, but since I am constantly surrounded by people who have made the same absurd choice, most of the time it doesn’t feel that absurd.  I’ve nearly forgotten that when I was in middle school it was weird to say that I like to read and when I was in high school it was weird to say that I like to write and when I was in college it was weird to say that I like school.  Now I have to travel outside of my circle to feel weird.  People on the outside can easily understand the frenzied pace of it all and the mountains of work, but what gets missed is just how deeply personal what I study is to me and how there’s a lot more at stake in it for me than a degree.

At the same time that I feel dissatisfied with my personal development as an academic, I feel incredibly lucky to have found a school of thought that speaks so strongly to me and a community of people who think it’s as important as I do.  I’m really hopeful that I can find a way forward for myself and I think this is the perfect time in my life as a student to be questioning myself this way.  It’s time for me to reach out and ask for advice from people who are willing to spend time letting me bounce ideas off of them.  It’s hard to know what you think or where you want to go until you see what’s out there.

The Really? part only comes in when I think of how compromised by time already is.  If I can just finish this semester without another sudden realization that turns into a time-consuming project, then I think I’ll be okay.  Don’t hold me to that, though, because when it rains, it pours, and when it pours you can’t just sit there getting rained on!

I have an aversion to things that are made to be inspiring.  What I mean is that I’m inspired by all kinds of things, but if you start a movie with the description “The inspiring story of . . . ” the chances of me watching it drop dramatically.  I guess I just don’t like being played like that.  I’d rather be surprised by inspiration.

It follows naturally from my aversion to the inspiring stories of others that I am incapable of being inspiring on purpose.  I just can’t do it.  And, I’m not interested in doing it.  I’m not at all saying that I don’t hope to be inspiring to other people or that my ego doesn’t soar a bit when someone tells me I have inspired them.  I just mean that I am more interested in working things out for myself.  If I ever inspire anyone, it’s by example and not because I’ve discovered the path to awesomeness and shared it with everyone.

I can’t deny that my motivations are largely selfish.  I think almost constantly about all the things for which I am striving.  But, it’s not that I don’t care about other people.  I care deeply about other people.  I just trust that they’ll find their own way.  We’re all in the same place of trying to figure things out, so why would I think I know more than they do?  I prefer to just share my journey rather than act like I’m further along than anyone else.

Here’s where it gets sticky.  I think my aversion to being intentionally inspiring is attached to my aversion to teaching.  That would be all well and good.  We don’t all have to be teachers.  Except, that’s exactly what I’m training to be!  I’m getting this fancy education so that I can be a professor and unlike some of my fellow students, I am more interested in teaching than independent research. Though this sounds contradictory, it doesn’t feel that way to me.

This is all connected to what I said yesterday about writing from a personal perspective.  I don’t like to write or speak as if I’ve got it all figured out.  But, the truth is that I do have some things more figured out than other people.  I know things.  And I am interested in sharing those things, because I love to debate and I love to work things out for myself by explaining them to other people.  But, I cannot authentically do that from the position of an expert.  I can only do it as a person on the journey.

The strange thing about this for me is that even though I have always been interested to some degree in being a teacher and this career path when I finally decided on it felt so right to me for that reason, I have never thought of myself as a teacher.  Even when other people told me I would be a good teacher (usually when I was helping them with their writing) it never felt like part of my identity.  But, maybe I just hadn’t worked out the kind of teacher I want to be, even though I have so many good examples right in front of me.  I’m never going to be an expert with all the answers or a leader of many people.  I’m going to be raising questions and arguing for a position, but always with the intention of pushing people toward figuring out what they think.  I’d rather help people find their own way than convince them my way is the best.

Though it may not be obvious to anyone else,  this is basically a description of the kind of writing I do here.