52 Loaves To The Rescue

Growing up, we used to joke in my family about having terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days.  Yesterday was one of those.  By noon, I had received three major blows and was left nursing my wounds in full-fledged self-pity.  Little did I realize, an unexpected gift was concurrently making its way across the country to brighten my mood...

The Jab
Thursday I received a that's-news-to-me-email about my teaching duties for the semester.  I hastily emailed my advisor to inquire about the matter.  Friday morning, I got his response: a four line indication that, yes, I would be teaching, and sorry that he didn't tell me himself, and point of fact, money is tight. 

Note the "Advisor Runs Out Of Funding" low.  Check out more PhD Comics here.

Don't get me wrong.  I don't dislike teaching.  But, getting a teaching assignment is like having someone blow a 20 hour hole out of your [required] 60 hour work week with a shotgun.  Trying to gather all of the shards of time left after the explosion (and make productive use of them) is a challenge.  The sad reality, is that teaching doesn't get me any closer to publishing noteworthy research in my field.  What it does get me is a classroom full of needy, whiny students who incessantly worry about their grades (and not about learning anything).

The Hook
Less than an hour later, when I shared my devastating news with a friend, I received a response about as sensitive as that given to Job by his friends Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar.  This resulted in a complete emotional meltdown on my part and a total loss of dignity as I fled the scene crying.  Although she called me later to apologize, the experience was still traumatic.

The Upper Cut
While sitting at my desk, trying to recompose myself, I unwittingly read, The Disposable Academic: Why doing a PhD is often a waste of time, an article published last month in The Economist.  I quote:

"Many of those who embark on a PhD are the smartest in their class and will have been the best at everything they have done. They will have amassed awards and prizes. As this year’s new crop of graduate students bounce into their research, few will be willing to accept that the system they are entering could be designed for the benefit of others, that even hard work and brilliance may well not be enough to succeed, and that they would be better off doing something else."

Awesome.

Thankfully, I managed to keep from flinging myself off a bridge in my moment of despair.  But, my spirits were pretty low when I got home from work.

That's when I saw it:  a little, golden yellow book on my kitchen table.

"52 Loaves: One man's Relentless Pursuit of Truth, Meaning, and a Perfect Crust", by William Alexander. 

I asked Flourboy if he had purchased it.  He said no.  He thought I did.  I said no.  We looked at each other then, in a prolonged moment of curious confusion.  Where had the book come from? 

Then it hit me in a moment of fantastical delight!  This was an act of Covert Gifting!

There is nothing quite so refreshing as an unexpected kind gesture, from someone that you deeply respect and admire, on a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day, that affirms a pursuit that gives you real joy and satisfaction.

Thanks Jill, I can't wait to start reading!