dissertation drain

it’s official. i now know more than anyone else that has ever lived on the subject of irish public discourse about the beijing olympics. i know statistics. i know numbers. i know opinions. i even know media coverage. obviously, i really could not have been happier to watch that thing take its short fall into the project drop box next to the main office in the school of applied languages and intercultural studies at dcu last monday afternoon.

in the week and a half since i submitted my dissertation, i have done several things. the first thing was to begin sorting out the end of my book, which i am still working on with hopes of having it to my publisher by the end of the month. if i haven’t yet blogged about getting a publisher, apologies. like i said… dissertation drain, and all that.

the second thing i did was drink heavily, which was really no change from any given day during the writing of the dissertation except that the small nagging feeling of procrastinatory guilt had finally disappeared. it was replaced by pure emptiness, which was both relieving and slightly disconcerting.

the third thing i did was commence the inevitable freak out over being 27, jobless, penniless and threatened with deportation if i don’t somehow come up with a brilliant, all-encompassing plan that will earn me at least enough money to pay my rent, buy bill dinner and a pint for …well… everything, and last but not least, allow me to stay in this country. no small feat, let me tell you.

what have i done to try and counter this unending feeling of total fear and despair, you ask? hm. well, first i drank heavily and did that a few more times and kept doing it all the way up until, well, now. i also sent out about 3,486 CVs to just about any job i could see listed and several that weren’t (so if i end up frying cod in the chipper or peddling chewing gum at the local SPAR, don’t be surprised). i also had several very good sob sessions with just about anyone that would listen, including a very scared nigerian man on a bus in glasnevin. finally, just to edge up my confidence once more, i emailed “please take me under your wing” schpeels to at least 6 different phd programmes in the hopes that one might take pity on the poor yankee girl and let her stay.

where does all of this leave me? …. i have no bloody clue! if anyone knows of a job opening or possible phd programme or a pyramid scheme i might undertake or a militia i could join, just email me at desperatepostgraduate@noprospects.ie

to sum up: it is pouring down rain on this southside dublin day – a day in which bill and myself had planned to drive to the “sunny” southeast for a day of beach ‘n’ beer in waterford. shaping up to be more like brolly ‘n’ bed with wine at the guesthouse, instead.

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