Last night Josh and I hosted one of my advisors, her roomate and their very playful pup to our house for dinner. We had a great time...after an initial establishing of the doggie hierarchy, the dogs got along fabulously running and jumping throughout the house together. We talked about everythnng from university politics to how to train our dog to family holiday horror stories of years gone by. It was lovely.
And then, the inevitable came. My advisor said, "Why don't we go into the other room and talk about your prospectus?"
This would be the prospectus that I have worked nearly six months writing, the prospectus that failed the advanced studies committee twice already, the prospectus that I can't stomach looking at or even thinking about.
Suddenly the fun atmosphere of party and doggie playdate became as somber as any funeral march as I followed her to my office.
And so we spent the next half hour, standing in my office taking apart the work I had done and building something new that I don't quite comprehend yet and which I think will ultimately be rejected by my other advisor. I am just not ready to engage that work again.
It was helpful and hopeful on the other hand to hear my advisor and roomate's equally shattering and painful experiences with their own prospecti...at least I am not alone.
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1 comment:
Oh, dear woman, my heart is with yours. Not that I have done this myself but I've had to watch Jay go through the same thing. Hang in there!
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