Will's Coffee House

John Dryden, Dramatist, Critic, Poet Laureate, and my ancestor, frequented a coffee house called Will's almost daily, where he would hold forth on sundry subjects with great wit and aplomb. Same deal here, only without the wit or aplomb.

Location: Large Midwestern City, Midwestern State, United States

I am a stranger in a sane land...

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Two Down...

Rejection #2 came in. I don't feel terribly conversational about it. This one was less of a long-shot than the first--the first I could write off as something I probably wasn't going to get anyway--this one, I thought I had a shot at--the interview went very well--friendly, smooth answers to their questions, laughter at my jokes, etc. I don't know. "You can never tell," right? But this one stings harder than the first, and now I'm starting to be afraid to check my e-mail. I think of what it means not to get hired, again. I think of facing another round of the hiring process. And I want to--well, not weep, I'm just not a crier--but crawl back into bed and let oblivion take over. But I can't, of course. Too much work to do. Five more potential "yes"es to go. But one more rejection establishes a pattern, and I'm just not quite secure enough to be the guy who can, after seven rejections, say, laughing, "Can you believe it! Seven rejections! Man, I must have worn the wrong cologne on that trip!" I suppose it would be nice to be that guy. Perhaps I should work on it.


Blogger post-doc said...

I'm sorry to hear this, and hope good news comes your way soon. I had a miserable run of luck with applications when I was finishing grad school, then I felt like everyone wanted me after awhile. It's a stressful process, and I felt awful when I ended up with the wrong impression of how an interview had gone. You're definitely not alone, and you have my best wishes for better news that arrives quickly.

6:24 PM  
Blogger phd me said...

And again I say, damn.

8:47 PM  
Blogger Yr. Hmbl. & Obdt. said...

And again I say, Yeah.

I also say thanks to 'post-doc'; the degree to which graduate school appears, in retrospect, so cosy and kind is odd, given the miseries of quals. and the diss. Yet I'm starting to give it a mild "Glory Days" glow in my memory. Of course, when I'm eventually hired and teaching a 4-4 schedule, I'll look back to this time and its 2-2 schedule and get wistful for the ease of the bygone era...

11:18 AM  

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