The end of an era

It took me six long (long) years, but I finally managed to extricate myself from graduate school. I started as a stupid little something with a Bachelor's in Business Administration and ended as a stupid little something with a Doctorate in Molecular Virology. As should be evident, decision making is not one of my fortes. I left a good job as a technician in a CRO doing pre-clinical pharmaceutical testing to get what I thought would be a bigger, better degree which would lead me to a bigger, better job and, subsequently, a bigger, better life. Not so much.

I still kind of can't believe it! This was very delicious cake, though.

I started off knowing almost literally nothing about biology. If it weren't for Beth answering all my idiot questions, I'm not sure I'd have prevailed. Everything was new and foreign to me. I got a B in my first grad class. That sounds like nothing, but bear in mind that, in grad school, a C is failing. By my next round of classes, I pulled off As, albeit with one A-. I managed to get up to speed and succeed in my classes. Again, with a lot of help.

But grad school isn't just classes. In fact, classes are a very small part of it. There's teaching. And lab work. Teaching was...okay. I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it like I thought I would. And let me tell you! The need to relay information to other people successfully is a great impetus to figuring things out. Immediately upon entering school, I had to teach a microbiology lab. I'd never even heard of an operon before, for crying out loud. I figured it out. I made due, and I even got decent reviews from my kids. Whew. Classes were going well, teaching was going well, that left lab work.

My bench, i.e. "this is where the magic happens."

The crazy was strong in my lab and I definitely needed refuge.

Lab work. Here's the thing. I never really knew what "research" was until I was at school doing it. My current working definition is "pain and suffering" or, in a word, "sisyphean." Lab work is supposed to be the fun and exciting part, where you discover things and figure things out. I wasn't discovering or figuring out. I was flailing and failing and miserable. And on top of that, somewhere about the middle of one's graduate career, one is supposed to qualify. Qualifying, at least at Maryland in my department, consists of assembling a committee, regaling them with your research plans in both written and audio/visual forms (that would be a written proposal followed by a proposal presentation), and then having an oral examination so they can be sure you are "qualified" to continue along this vaunted path.

Qualifying is terrifying. It is by no means a foregone conclusion that you will pass. You can have aced all your classes and have half a half a dozen publications and you can still fail. There I was, researchless, publicationless, clueless. I was pretty much hopeless, too. But I totally rocked it, if I do say so myself. So that was a hurdle down. At that point, my only obstacle was compiling enough data so that my committee would feel justified in letting me graduate.

Papers, papers, papers. I'm done with these and will "recycle" them to the lab for the other victims to use.

I did manage to eventually eke out enough results (with ample help from Xuefeng) that, when I convened my "can I graduate?" meeting, they said yes. That left finishing up, writing my thesis, defending, and finding a job. The finishing up and thesis writing went surprisingly well. The defending felt like I might die, but ended up not being such a big deal. It was fairly quick and painless, really. Actually, after having convinced myself I'd never graduate and working myself up into a full blown panic in the days leading up to it, the actual presentation and defense were surprisingly anticlimactic. I'm still gald it's over, though. I just have to tweak the thesis a bit and submit it.

I left my house the day of my defense only to find inspirational posters outside my door. I have a wonderful friend!

Job finding was another story. I learned along the way that there's really only one "approved" path for graduate students in life sciences to take: graduate, postdoc for a while, attempt to get one's own funding, attempt to get one's own lab, continue getting funding, publish, graduate students, publish, get tenure, continue getting funding and publishing and graduating students. On and on and on and on. This did not sound like too much fun to me. Trying to find info on "alternative" careers was difficult, but there was a glimmer of hope.

I've applied to literally dozens of positions and have only heard from a few: no. But I'm still trying. I'm close to breaking down and applying to an actual postdoc position. That or begging my former coworker, who now manages a histo lab, for a job. Or maybe I'll pick up my true calling and become a professional minesweeper player! I'll need to really up my game, though...

Not bad for an amateur.

To everyone who contributed to this: thank you. Sincerely. To those of you still doing this: good luck and I'm sorry. And, no, it doesn't get better. But it does get over, eventually. :)