Well, I hope I didn't scare you all off with that last posting. I'm just so worn out, so bitter, so sad, these days.
Silence. No call today. Today was supposed to be the deadline by which I would hear back from TPU in Beautiful Nowhere. I'm an old hand. I know what that means. At least I don't have an impossible commute to look forward to.
Applied for another job this week, and plan to submit for a second when I get home in two weeks, late postings, both tenure-track (assumedly to replace someone who took a post elsewhere). I decided not to apply for one temporary lecturer post that would be a tough commute, since lecturers make so much less than asst. profs at that insitution (about a third of which, or possibly half after taxes, would be eaten up by commuting), and the rank was non-negotiable. This just takes so much out of me. There is no consolation prize, no award for second-best.
Sure, there are many things to keep me from getting too discouraged, to help me keep it all in perspective. But in the end, I still have no job, no real validation for the work and effort I put into the PhD, and continue to pour into my research. Perhaps my wife's proposal is the best: we just pick someplace we want to live (near a major market airport) where she can forge a good career, and I just keep plugging away. Lord knows we can't make much of a life out here, where a house half the size of the one we sold rents for three times as much as our old mortgage. Buying a house out here is simply out of reach without a second income, and the prospects for me in that regard seem negligible at best.
Not that all things in my life are down. In fact, the lack of career prospects seems the only real downer. But then, that's what this blog is most about. There are strong incentives for chucking it all, and starting over. But I feel like a gambler who knows just one more shot will win me the jackpot. The hope keeps me coming back. Only time will tell.