At the ripe old age of twenty-one I am completely burnt out on academics.

I realised this today.

I finally faced Prof H (and managed not to cry, thank g-d, even tho he made me feel about an inch tall) and then took the paperwork to the Registrar. Where I was informed that I needed Prof H to “fill out a RGR form”. At which point I nearly started crying (again) and pitched a slight fit.

NO ONE had mentioned there was additional paperwork. I was told, twice, that I only needed to fill out the “this form and bring it back”. Which I did.

So, I ended up sitting down with a counselor who explained that they needed a RGR because H had specified a grade. (I had earned a B-)

Umm, hello???, I’m changing it from P/N to graded! One would think there was a grade involved!

No, I did not scream this at her. But, I wanted to. They wanted me to face H again, and possibly worse (with more paperwork). Apparently, there’s a difference between fulfilling my major and degree requirements. One would think they’re linked, but apparently not.

I was musing on all of this, as I was practically ushered out of the Registrar (yes, I am close to hysteria, why do you ask?), and realised that never again will I convince myself to care about my GPA.

In the Fall 2003 term, I was diagnosed with severe clinical depression and put on Welbutrin. It was bad. The meds, everything. So, I decided to take one class (the one dragging me down) P/N. That way, if I got a B or worse (heaven forbid!) it wouldn’t affect my GPA. I was told that it wouldn’t matter, anyway, because it could be ignored or I could fulfill the requirement another way. No way in hell. Never.

No. More. Classes.

2.5 years later, and I could give a fVck. I had cared, then, because I was certain that at this point I’d be accepted to either an Ivy or UMIST and on my way to eternal textile archaeology glory. I was a bit foolish at 19, I suppose.

But, this morning, I realised that even were Harvard or UMIST to accept me and offer me a GTF position – I wouldn’t take it. I’m way to burnt out. I need a respite. I hate academics and don’t want to look at another textbook, exam, or term paper for a couple of years.

It’s always mind-boggling to come to a conclusion like this. I’m a bit mystified. Taking such a 180 is stressful, but I didn’t even realise it was happening. But, it also occured to me, that playing serf to 3 (not one! but 3) departments might have been the direct cause of this.

I need to remember that when I finally consider grad school. UMIST is sounding better and better. They have a Textile Archaeology department. No more interdisciplinary/ multiple departments/ slave-drivers and loyalties things.

Okay. I’m going to the Dungeon, to finish that bloody costume. And, possibly, to eat some pie.


  1. {{hugs}}

    you aren’t the first to feel this way. know that you aren’t alone. going through all that you are right now, you amaze and inspire me.

    also: thank you for the great listing of books!! :)

  2. I think that every Registrar is pretty evil. (And hey — I managed to get through my program almost completely under the head of the department’s radar … AND we had only two professors aside from her. That’s some fancy invisibility cloak I was sporting.) And don’t worry. It’s perfectly appropriate to thumb your nose at further academia for a while.

    I do hope the pie was at least as tasty as it looked … mmm.

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