Sitting by the window in my little room overlooking Trinity Street and watching the world stroll by. There are people out there out there in the world somewhere, I am sure, who would kill to be where I am right now. But what those people don't realize is that "where I am right now" is actually a desperate race against my scholarship funding to the proverbial PhD finish line. Will I be able to do in three years what my counterparts in the United States do in five or six? Needless to say, when I'm looking out my window, I'm usually not just admiring the view. My gaze is, instead, fixated anxiously on the future.
But now I wonder, as I bid a not-so-fond farewell to the '00s, if perhaps I ought to lower my expectations. Maybe my fondest life wish--reasonable long-term security in health, employment, and happiness--is just too damn much to hope for. After all, the only certainty is death, and there's no stopping that
final countdown. What if I do end up, as many academics do, cobbling an entire career together on short-term contracts? How will I stand it? Maybe knowing, as I do right now, that I am safe today and have every reason to believe that I will also be safe the day immediately after today, is going to have to be enough.
it be enough? Well, I suppose my New Year's resolution is to see to it that it is.