Bye-bye Spookytown?
So it turns out that the two unknown phone numbers yesterday were both in fact job-related. The person who left the voicemail was the one with the good news: that I had been selected for their short-list and will come out and visit next month. The person who didn't leave the voice mail was the one with the bad news, which she wanted to deliver "voice-to-voice", as she said: that they had decided to make the offer to someone else.
Now in some ways, this really isn't that bad. I was ambivalent about the job, but ambivalent in a kind of more leaning negatively way (details can be given in a more private channel), especially as it would mean living in Spookytown in perpetuity, which just didn't seem like the most appealing of options. In some other ways, though, I am really not pleased. I had hoped to be able to mentally just quit my current job and have the security of knowing I had something tenure track in front of me, instead of months and months of more uncertainty and waiting and being endlessly evaluated in public ways that are even so still behind your back. And I'm also totally over not being chosen for jobs, especially when I have kind of recently reached the conclusion that my work is actually ok, perhaps even "good." I mean, for this job I had good letters and good evaluations and the talk went well and I just had an article in a top journal come out last month and and and important people were calling and writing e-mails and whispering in ears on my behalf and also my current students had put glowing letters in my file saying how much they loved me. What the fuck more do you need to get a job in this field? I'm starting to think that this spring I may have to make good on my threat to give up on academia and find something else if I don't get a job in this round, because although top people say things like "perseverance!" and "don't give up!" and "how many times do I have to tell you that you're great and you'll get a job!", at what point of hitting your head against the brick wall do you decide that it might not be in your best interests anymore?
Meanwhile, I'm heading up to New York in a few hours to help out with some medical stuff for Dad tomorrow, and need to start packing right now. But in the spirit of obstructionism that seems to characterize the day, Wethead is perched directly above the pajamas I want. I'm giving him half an hour...
Now in some ways, this really isn't that bad. I was ambivalent about the job, but ambivalent in a kind of more leaning negatively way (details can be given in a more private channel), especially as it would mean living in Spookytown in perpetuity, which just didn't seem like the most appealing of options. In some other ways, though, I am really not pleased. I had hoped to be able to mentally just quit my current job and have the security of knowing I had something tenure track in front of me, instead of months and months of more uncertainty and waiting and being endlessly evaluated in public ways that are even so still behind your back. And I'm also totally over not being chosen for jobs, especially when I have kind of recently reached the conclusion that my work is actually ok, perhaps even "good." I mean, for this job I had good letters and good evaluations and the talk went well and I just had an article in a top journal come out last month and and and important people were calling and writing e-mails and whispering in ears on my behalf and also my current students had put glowing letters in my file saying how much they loved me. What the fuck more do you need to get a job in this field? I'm starting to think that this spring I may have to make good on my threat to give up on academia and find something else if I don't get a job in this round, because although top people say things like "perseverance!" and "don't give up!" and "how many times do I have to tell you that you're great and you'll get a job!", at what point of hitting your head against the brick wall do you decide that it might not be in your best interests anymore?
Meanwhile, I'm heading up to New York in a few hours to help out with some medical stuff for Dad tomorrow, and need to start packing right now. But in the spirit of obstructionism that seems to characterize the day, Wethead is perched directly above the pajamas I want. I'm giving him half an hour...
posted by Pangea at 1:18 PM
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