I'm so screwed

I edited six paragraphs of my literature review tonight and got stuck looking for a citation for one messy, murky statement I made in a moment of arrogance. Whoa, who do I think I am? I'd better cite a source, quick, before the thought police bust me for making an unsubstantiated claim. That's what I was thinking as I logged into the university portal and clicked on EBSCO Host, which recently was expanded with a huge database of business articles. Cool! I plugged in my search terms and found... nothing? What?

Well, not exactly nothing, but nothing that seemed to have the potential to corroborate my messy, murky statement. But I found lots of other interesting things: current studies and articles on my topic from all around the world. Norway! South Africa! Hong Kong! Connecticut! Plus lots of other neat places I will likely never see. I downloaded feverishly, hoarding the files into my folder, gloating gleefully—until I realized I am going to have to read all this stuff. And I'm still stuck on the messy, murky statement.

So I did what all intrepid scholars do when they find themselves spinning their wheels. I closed the stupid file, and opened this stupid blog. All I can say is, I'm so screwed. Oh, not about the messy, murky statement: I'll just delete the darn thing, who cares, not me. Nobody will ever miss it. And if it is any consolation to you, it won't be the only messy, murky statement I write in this dissertation. I'm sure there will be others.

Life is feeling particularly overwhelming. Next week is finals at the career college, followed by an insane Friday of grading, in-service, and prepping for the new start on Monday. (We like to pile up all our stress on one day at the career college, it's more efficient that way.) To make things more interesting, the past week or so, there have been some mucky-mucks in suits roaming the halls. Apparently one of the owners is selling his shares to an investment corporation. Look out, little backwater college. I predict things will be changing. New owners like to clean house. That usually means out with the old, in with the new. And judging by the way enrollment numbers have been headed over the past couple years (down), I predict faculty numbers will shortly be headed the same direction. Great. I just hope the job holds out until I can finish this degree.

Speaking of which, I have a phone call set up for next week with my new chairperson. I'm shocked at how promptly she has responded to my messages. It's unnerving. Now I guess I'm going to have to show up with the same level of commitment. No more hiding behind my flaky adjunct former chair. I guess that is what happens when the university assigns a full-time faculty member to be the committee chairperson: she is actually take the job seriously. (I'm not saying adjuncts are flaky; some of my best friends are adjuncts. I just know adjuncts don't get paid extra to respond promptly.)

Change happens, but sometimes it's slow. Sometimes it doesn't look the way I want it to look. Maybe I'll go to work tomorrow and find a padlock on the front door. Maybe... no, my brain only thinks of negative possibilities. Little Mary Sunshine I am not. I, the chronic malcontent, scoff at optimists. One thing I can say for sure: Someday this will all be over, one way or another. Right now the job feels endlessly boring, tedious, and pointless. This Ph.D. pursuit feels endlessly, excruciatingly messy and murky. I guess that is how we find out what we are made of. Me, I'm made of spit, snot, and malcontented stubbornness. And I don't need no stinking citation to substantiate that claim.