Masters tales

The PhD Blues

I have decided in the next year or two to start a PhD. I mean, I am only stopped by the fact I need funding…

But, and this is something I have got to come to terms with, me and postgraduate proposals do not go hand in hand.

When I was studying in England I thought about doing a Masters and PhD in Paleontology. I went to see the man who would look after my research, Dr John.

“Hi,” I said, smiling. I was in a good mood as I thought I’d found my calling.

The lecturer grunted and continued to look at a bone with a hand lens. He didn’t look up.

“I was wondering…”

“Will this take long?” he interrupted, still not looking up.

I narrowed my eyes. “No.”

“Good.” And then when I said nothing. “What?”

“Is there any chance of studying for a Masters?”

That made him sit up. He looked at me a moment. “You can. And I would let you. But you will have to pay for yourself.”

“I though there was funding?” I asked, flinching as the bottom fell out of my dream.

“No. You have got to pay.” Then he smiled. “But anyone would let you study if you can pay.”

He then picked up the hand len and went back to studying the bone. I stood for a moment and then turned, and left.

My dream was shattered. Instead, I went back home and got a job.

But, now, many years later I am once again thinking about a PhD. (Oh, and if you were wondering, the love for paleontology has more to do with telling the dinosaur’s story than anything scientific.) And I can’t forget the last time I tried to submit a proposal. It isn’t just the studying but also finding the right place to do it.

I’m just finding the whole thing daunting.

I will get my PhD, but I will do it slowly, and think about each decision. After all, this could be the difference between a brilliant outcome, or a fail. And I hate to fail.

This post was inspired by the daily prompt – baggage check.

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