Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a mom who started graduate school– WAIT! It wasn’t that long ago! I swear! At least, not the second start!
I’m about to join the ranks of the department’s senior students. Most of the students that were the senior students when I arrived are gone or about to leave, aside from the Pharm D./Ph.D. student who’s been here for nearing seven years. Of course, he’s got a pharmacy degree already and the Ph.D. will be icing on the cake. I think only the fact that he’s come this far prevents him from saying to hell with the icing.
Aside from the handful of post-docs and the professors, of course, he’s the only student now from whom I can seek advice. Sadly, that means absolutely nothing has changed in the two and a half years I’ve been here. I could complain about how unhelpful the other students in the department were, but I think I understand how they felt.
Now I’m the one people are coming to for advice. I feel like there should have been a flag and maybe even little fireworks. My princess better be in this darn castle too!
Unfortunately, much like adulthood, there isn’t a magic number where you are automatically grown and mature. One day you’re a kid and the next you look up and go, “WTF?!” wishing you could trade your stack of bills for Legos and crayons. While not quite as shocking, I’ve somehow morphed from mostly clueless to walking people through processes I learned by doing them the wrong way a gazillion different times before figuring out how to do it properly.
I get asked by faculty, students, and other people what I wish to do once I graduate. My reply is generally that I’m leaving my options open since the economy is so shaky. I’m beginning to wonder if I should find a job that includes at least some teaching. I loathe bad teachers, and I genuinely like helping people understand. I suppose if I don’t kill anyone for asking moronic questions in the next couple of years, I might decide to teach.