We’re at the apex of summer on the Eastern Seaboard. Humidity. The air outside seems to press down on you with force, its that hot. Despite that, I can sleep through the night without air conditioning, though sometimes I have to migrate to the cold wooden floor for a couple of hours to make it easier.
I remember my first week in the United States, back when I was doing my Year In Industry in Philadelphia. The heat was surprising…but the first thunderstorm dumbfounded me. Thunder & lightening is so rare in the UK, maybe a couple of murmurs of thunder and flickers of light. I was scared by the noise over in here – how loud, close and relentless the strikes were. How much rain could be voided out of the sky…and then how bright the sun could be shining minutes later. These days the thunderstorms don’t scare me, in fact my ears prick with anticipation when I hear on the radio that one is rolling through. The summer thunderstorms are one of the things I like the most about America.
My PhD is almost finished. The number of reactions left to run I can count on my fingers. This past week has seen the dismantling of our lab, ready for its migration South. Chemicals have been expertly boxed by a specialist moving company, our glassware has been laid out in pristine fume hoods according to flask size/type, etc ready for similar treatment. We defrosted the fridges and turned off the instruments.
It feels a little surreal, especially since I’m remaining here on the Eastern Seaboard. Where I can survive at home without A.C. On the one hand it all feels anticlimactic – my research is over, no more stress about obtaining Publishable Data (I’ve 2 papers to wrap up) and getting enough results to defend my PhD. I’ve got all my results…and that’s fine.
The job/postdoc search is a slog. I’m in several holding patterns as potential bosses wait to hear about grants that may or may not appear. A government department has sunk into a hideous backlog and PIs across the country are howling with frustration along with the grad students, postdocs and visiting scientists whose future career step is paused mid-stride. I get polite rejections of “no funding or space left” – could be a diplomatic lie, could be the truth – and have to sit back down at my computer and fire off another round of cheery applications. Like the rejections aren’t hurting me.
It’s hard to balance idealism against rising desperation. Some career steps can do more harm than good. Would a “bad job” be better than no job at all? Have I totally mis-estimated my skills/worth? Right now I’m craving certainty, which is what we all want, I guess.