Mental Gymnastics

It took a long time to line up post-PhD employment. The advice I enacted is to start looking for postdoctoral positions 12 months before you are due to defend. I learned that could be a conservative estimate.

Damn, so much rejection and failure.

I’m not a perfect applicant. Some of my flaws I’ve tried to erase or conceal. Others I feel resigned to. I tried to evolve over the search – not taking anything for granted. Oh, I thought I’d got a good CV final draft? Maybe look at it again next month, compare it to the one that hotshot Assistant Professor uploaded. See if I can emulate their crisp format.

I tried to be aspirational. Wherever the line between aspirational and delusional is…I must have swerved across it multiple times. Some of the professors I assumed would never read a postdoc app from the likes of me came back with a profession of interest. Some of the professors who I thought I had a good shot with apologised for the lack of funding and space. You don’t know until you try. And you don’t always know what these competitive labs are looking for in terms of skills/personal qualities with their postdocs.

Some top groups were booked up with postdocs for the next 2-3 years. If you want to network my way into a Top 10 Chemistry lab at a Top 10 University, you probably have to start in your first year of grad school. I found myself annoyed that I hadn’t attended a Gordon Conference during my PhD – it would have helped.

Close to 50% of my rejections were implicit. An email application was fired off…and nothing ever came back. I know one colleague who got a response after maybe 3 months (“Hey sorry for the delay, are you still interested in my lab? Want to come for an interview?”), long after hope must have died. Kinda wish I hadn’t heard that story. Many professors replied to my email and explained that they’d love to take me on…if only they had funding. It’s the most diplomatic way to reject an applicant – nothing personal, only financial – although with NIH grant proposals simmering around the 10% acceptance rate it is often true.

Good timing helps. If your application is near the top of the pile when a grant is approved/re-approved you have a good chance of a callback. But since federal funding is an endless gnashing cycle of submissions and proposal review dates you might never get a formal rejection when a PI is chasing cash. “The grant I was hoping for didn’t come through last week…but if you’re willing to wait there’s another one I’m trying for in a couple of months.” And you’ve no idea how likely it is the grant will come through. Maybe you’ll still be on top of the pile if it does…maybe a better applicant will have come along.

I have sympathy for the professors. They get a lot of postdoc applications. Many of them took the time to reply to my cold call with a couple of apologetic sentences. I could cross them off my list – thick red lines of ink – and move on.

I have very little sympathy for the post-interview ghosters. After a Skype (or even one campus) interview…nothing. That stings. My suspicion is that it’s an American cultural-linguistic thing. British academics are cagey and stick to formulaic script: “If I were to make you an offer, when would you be able to start?” You know everything is provisional, nothing is guaranteed, and they can email you later to say they’ve decided not to make you an offer and you don’t feel blindsided.

In several instances, American academics don’t seem to know about this useful qualifying language. They talk to you like they’re seriously wanting to make you an offer but just need a few days to mull and double-check. They go as far as to tell you “Let’s email early next week and take it from there.” And like a chump I emailed them when I thought they wanted me to email…and never received a reply. They got a polite follow-up ~7 days later…but at that point I’d taken the hint.

American academics: don’t ghost people you’ve interviewed. It’s cowardly and unhelpful.   By the interview stage I’m already performing mental gymnastics to see if I could imagine myself in this new lab, in this new city. Could I make this work? I start taking the prospect of joining a lab seriously, planning ahead so I know what questions to ask and what signs to look for. A simple lie about “research interests not aligning” would be acceptable. I hate being stressed out in a post-interview limbo. I hate realising I misread major social cues and chased after a PI who didn’t want to be chased. Why did you invite me to email you back?!

Anyway. I’m sorted.

I’m happy and relieved that I’m sorted.

I don’t feel like I “settled for something less” or was forced into a postdoctoral position out of desperation. An application aligned with funding and availability.

I got something I really wanted. A postdoc position in a big city. I admit it wasn’t a big city on my initial list of Big Cities I Want to Live In…but if anything it could be a better fit than my earlier choices.

My PhD defence date is in early December. I start the postdoc in late January. Stay tuned.

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Heavy Thunder

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.

 

Sync

 

Wishing for more certainties, wishing for fewer toxins in my bloodstream.

It feels as if I’ve been too caught up in Stuff. Too many worries, too many long and drawn-out days when I should have called it quits and headed home. Too many mornings where I silenced the alarm clock and slept for another hour when I should have got up and made use of the productive ear lies morning hours. Too much staying angry when I should have let the anger flow out instead of clogging me up.

Eventually this will pass. Getting everything back in sync seems like the biggest struggle right now.

 

It’s unclear why I would have a psychological barrier that stops me from taking baths when I live with roommates. I think if you started a timer, a long hot shower takes me about as long as a soak in the bath (at least it does these days). I still don’t like the idea that somebody could be waiting to use the bathroom whilst I’m wasting time in a bath, so I guess that’s why it never happened.

Now I can take baths instead of showers every night. In fact, my new weekend treat is to switch off the lights and enjoy a bath by candlelight. Maybe I’ve just been feeling guilty about the in-built decadence of baths.

My new apartment comes with plenty of wonderful freedoms – but also hidden restrictions. I have a balcony upon which I can drink my Sunday morning coffee during the height of summer (as you may recall, I love a good balcony) The greenery out the back in pleasant to look upon. Baths, etc. I can walk into town in less than 30 minutes.

The biggest restriction is the higher cost of rent, especially pronounced in the summer when I’m on a different (i.e. lower) monthly salary. For the past two years I’ve had the freedom to not worry about money and expenditure, now I’ve got to think about budgeting more tightly and checking my bank balance more frequently. It should work out fine, but will take adjustments.

The other restriction is on my freedom of movement. I can cycle to my office now. Although it takes a short space of time, it still takes much more time, planning and energy than the 5 minute walk I’ve grown used to. It looks like I can’t have everything: I can’t save money (cycling instead of driving, eating at home instead of on-campus/in restaurants), possess the full freedom of off-campus housing and have equivalent productivity in the lab.

Perhaps the best thing about my new apartment is that it gives me a greater sense of responsibility. It was hard to muster up enthusiasm to clean my on-campus quarters – it was shared, I didn’t spend much time there, the dirt wasn’t that much of an issue, yada yada. Now I have the free time on Sundays (since I can’t just wander into lab when I’m bored) I can do some dedicated cleaning of the space. I have a sense of ownership of my place, rather than just concluding that as the only occupant I can leave everything as filthy as I like.

I’m looking forward to my next couple of paycheques – decorating my rooms and concealing the dull whitewashed walls is my top priority.

Black Soul Coffee

Right now, black coffee consumes me. I think nothing of reheating day-old filtered coffee in the microwave, often 1-2 cups per day. I know I should switch it out with tea sometimes, but my body needs to taste that nasty dark bitterness.  I equilibrate with the dark bitterness within, I guess.

Honestly, I’m a mess of bad habits right now. My worst vice is regularly (i.e., more often than not) going to the lab on Sundays. If I was to give a prospective PhD student one piece of advice it would be “Don’t work 7 days a week – take a day off to refresh yourself”. Do as I say, not as I do, folks. Granted, I don’t work as long or as hard on the weekends (…usually): I give myself the luxury of checking Facebook during the daytime on Saturdays & Sundays, and I may well head out for a long lunch somewhere off campus. But at this point the PhD and Chemistry research is just…something that I do. Being in the lab is just…something that I do. There isn’t much of a distinction between “work” and “life” – it’s balanced in the sense that work is my life.

The PhD was always going to feature some sacrifice. As soon as I articulated my desire to do a PhD in Organic Chemistry I was warned that it would consist of 12 hr days, 60+ hr weeks. I never liked the idea of that, it was only after a lot of exposure to the concept that I finally made peace with it. Swallowed the bitterness, if you will. I’m an ambitious person, I wanted publications, prestige and a strong CV. It would be almost impossible to get those things in the Synthetic field without joining a 12/60 lab and matching that work ethic.

Yes, I’m envious of my friends in 9-5 white collar jobs. Yes, I feel sad that I had to give up travelling, dancing, doing lots of fun stuff. The hope is that I will (eventually) get it back. I have a clear idea of the kind of professional I want to become, and the kind of lifestyle I want to live. When I walk through Philadelphia I remember.

Despite all of this, I’d still say that I am happy. I’m in a lab that I enjoy being in. I don’t stress about money (I had 6 months in Edinburgh of full-time money worry: it made me appreciate financial security). My overall stress levels aren’t especially high and I’m not at risk of burn-out. I don’t have any pressing fears or uncertainties about what is coming next (there was a fair chunk of that when I was in Basel. Again, I can feel its absence).

Motorin’

This might be an embarrassing thing for me to confess.
But I’ll do it anyway.
Owning a car is really exciting.

I realise that most people learn to drive between the ages of 16-18. By the time folk get to university (in both the UK & USA) they usually have access to – if not nominal ownership of – a battered old car for personal use. As such, they are used to the convenience of owning wheels, and I run the risk of appearing majorly naive with my mid-20s excitement.

Whatever.

I picked up the keys to a 2005 Toyota Camry last week. It will take a while to sink in: it represents a really big shift in how I conduct life in the USA. Although the bugger is expensive – I’ve had to sink costs for the purchase, registration, insurance, repairs – I think the shift will be profoundly GOOD.

Back in late spring, the downtown supermarket closed. It was my wake-up call that I finally needed to sort myself out with a car: I became severely limited in my eating habits if I couldn’t drive to the out-of-town supermarkets by the malls. At the same time I felt dissatisfied with life on the university campus: I couldn’t escape from grad school. It’s fine up to a point since all I do is conduct research right now, but it didn’t make me happy.

Owning a car called Saxon (yes, that’s his name) feels like such a hefty, adult responsibility. I’ve always been the person who had to rely on others driving me about the place – now I’m capable of driving myself. It felt weirdly exhilarating driving to the supermarket for a grocery shop – I didn’t have to worry about whether I could fit all the shopping into my rucksack to carry home, it all could fit into my boot! If I want to go eat in a restaurant, I am no longer limited to the establishments in downtown New Brunswick. If I want to buy something, I don’t have to play a day trip to NYC (via train) to procure it. I can ask people if they “Need a ride?”, rather than being the one awaiting an offer from others.

I’m a calm driver, cycling through bus lanes in packed cities teaches you how to keep cool under pressure on the roads. Driving at night or on the motorway still intimidates me a little, although I’m getting used to it. With practice I think I will be fine.

My next big goal is to move off-campus for the rest of my PhD. I already have a good idea of the neighbourhood I want to settle in to. If I want a 1 bedroom flat I know it will cost a bit more – I’m hoping that the cost of the car doesn’t prevent me from living in my preferred location. I don’t really want to adopt the American habit of driving everywhere – bad for the environment, expensive – but my lifestyle needs a tweak.

Grad school just got that little bit more manageable.

Fall Dreamings

Fall warmth on the Eastern Seaboard.

Fall warmth on the Eastern Seaboard.

I wonder if Fall is my favourite season in America. Summer is too baking hot, Winter is too cold and biting. Spring is more moderate so I can actually go outdoors and appreciate the season…but Spring has less aesthetic pleasure than Fall. Autumn in the UK is just a layer of slick damp leaves on the pavement; a British Spring always has the beautiful snowdrops, crocuses and tulips blooming into life. Fall in the USA is something else, very different.

This week I passed the first half of my PhD candidacy examination – a presented research proposal on a topic outside my field of expertise. I’m pleased with how the talk went, and very glad to have gotten through the first (more difficult, in my opinion) 50% of the candidacy process.

The build-up was stressful. My body is really good at suppressing stress – I can keep calm even when attempting to drive down the motorway for the first time – but when I am stressed (or angry) I really feel it. My concentration is shot to pieces, I can’t focus, sit still or eat a decent meal. There was some of that behaviour evident over the past month, which is bad of course because if I can’t concentrate to study properly, I’m just going to get more stressed and angry at myself for the poor preparation. The night before my presentation I wrote: “my stomach is a knotted lead pipe.” Fortunately, I got it “calmed” mode on the day.

***

This has been a bad semester in the sense that I’ve grinded up to this point with very little time to relax, get into NYC or Philly or disconnect from my academic stuff. I don’t think that is especially helpful – it isn’t good for me, nor is it good for my work productivity. I hope to get things a little bit more balanced out again. If you never fully disconnect, you stop being fully connected.

Time to enjoy Fall, while it is still around.