As per the norm in Norman, today’s weather in no way resembles what had been going on for the last week or two. We have had generally cold, rainy conditions up till now, and today is a beautiful, sunny day in the upper sixties. I’m sitting outside at the Campus Corner Starbucks (Cafe Plaid was closed) and people watching while reading. There are a ton of people out enjoying the weather, and there must have been some sort of Sunday matinée at the theater, because it was pretty crowded.
My reading reminds me though of a conversation I had with my sister yesterday. She called sometime in the afternoon to see what I was up to, and, as always, I responded reading. She then asked what time I was going to put down the books and start partying to which I laughed. Her theory is that people agree to stay in academics and go to grad school because it’s fun. Why else would anyone sign up for their 17th-20somethingth year of education unless it was really fun.
I had suspected for a while now that she had no idea what I actually do, but this confirmed it. When I got done laughing with Lisa about the concept of grad school being fun, I picked the phone back up and tried to explain the situation to my sister. We don’t go to grad school because it’s fun. We go because if we stay in school until we’re roughly 30, we might then be able to get a very demanding 60 hour a week job that pays less than what a lot of people could get coming out of high school. If we succeed at that for 6 years (putting us into our mid-30’s), we might then get tenure and be assured of a decent paying job for forever.
Tracy was still confused and assumed I was just messing with her, that I do in fact party non-stop and that somehow grad school is the greatest thing in the history of the world. I was also confused. Why am I in fact doing these things. The best answer I can come up with is that I hate cubicles and being at work at 8 so much that I’m willing to work more hours for less pay in strange places. The travel is also nice (when funded), and you get summers to at least dictate your own schedule. Still, grad school is tough, no one does it for the money, and it’s a long tunnel before you get to any kind of light (which may in fact be an oncoming train).
At least I have this bright sunny day in which to read John Ray.