I want to be a gumdrop unicorn. I want it so frigging badly I could puke in 31 colors, all sparkly. I want to feel special. I want to believe that everyone has to wear shades when they look at me, I’m so bright!
What brought this on? Applications. To get anywhere, I have to drink sugar water with no nutritional value and apply for the terminal degree in my discipline. Between teaching and crafting the perfect statement, I’m losing my mind. Oh, and don’t tell Hiram I’m behind in my grading……
Well-meaning colleagues tell me I need to show that I am a “star” to get in. They don’t understand my application apprehension--apparently I’m an ideal candidate with my article and shiny new grant. I don’t know if I’ve got the magic formula.
I am such a bright shining star that I only got one of the classes I was originally scheduled to teach for the spring—the others fell through. So now I am sending out C.V.’s to the equivalents of academic Siberia in the vain hopes of a position paying pocket change. Twinkle, twinkle little star!
I want to be a gumdrop unicorn—they don’t have days like this. If I put on sparkly shoes and click my heels, will it happen? Please?
Arg - I love when they tell me I'm so great and that I should be able to get a job. Really? Then howsabout one here? Oh, you're not hiring either? Oh, and you're dropping my status down to adjunct again and you couldn't tell me this two months ago when there was still work at the CC you poached me from? Ok, thanks for telling me how easy it is to get a job and that I'm such a super star. As long as we're having make-believe time, you're the Queen of England.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Wombat! This post nailed it for me. I am such a super star I'm thinking of temping if I don't get a bite from the two Siberian institutions....good thing I type fast!
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