My decision: maybe not?

Since I wrote my acceptance letter, a few things have happened. The most fundamental one being that I haven't sent it yet. I wrote the letter with the intention of sending it, obviously, but while I was writing the blog post I remembered one last lead at the nebulous-research place; I did, in fact, send off a note to them saying simply (because it was my third note, the previous sent April 20 and 29, and they'd promised an answer initially the week before and then the day before), "Any news? I'm sorry to be pushy, but I have been sitting on another offer for a long time, and I should give them an answer relatively soon." I sent it towards the end of the working day, and unsurprisingly didn't get an answer.

I did start to look at apartments in my presumptive new city, and did marvel that more than half of the ads mention whether or not Section 8 housing vouchers are accepted; some of the Section 8-accepting apartment buildings come fairly close to the gentrified areas. Interestingly, housing is not much cheaper than here or my previous city; you just get more. For instance, a 3 bedroom/3 bathroom over 3 floors with a hot tub costs per person the same as my current and past 2 bedroom. That makes sense: the landlords know what university-affiliated folk are willing to pay, and that's a national market, so they give them something that they are willing to pay that much for. A hot tub seems extravagant, but surely it can generate enough extra rental income to pay for itself in a year. One apartment complex stress that you do not have to ever go outside if you live there: the garage is directly attached. The subtext that I can't help but read is, "Never see another poor minority again!"

I pictured myself getting a beautiful one bedroom, working in a cramped office filled with partitions and women who talk about shoes for hours at a time (this happened), and coming home every day and just crying. Or, alternatively, being completely alone in one cubicles among many in a distant part of campus, and having no advisors anywhere nearby, nor answering email, which is how they've been so far. Then I called a friend who lives 2 hours away from the new city, and cheered up at realizing that I could piece together a social life over the phone and in person. And I looked at the facebook groups for incoming PhD students to the school, and realize they are all in the same situation as I am coming to this awful city for an education, only I have a PhD already.

Then this morning, I got a note from the government job with subject line "Compatibility." They liked me, and are interested in moving ahead, only they had budget problems this year and can't fly me out, so want to know if I like them. An hour after they sent the note, they got an enthusiastic reply. So we'll see.

Maybe my advisor was right that as prestigious as the other postdoc is, and as exciting as the academic opportunities are, I just don't care that much about them.

My feelings about the prospect of this prestigious postdocs is that the excitement of lots of new opportunities wears off, and they become the status quo, with the same set of unproductive work habits.

Every semester of classes in college and grad school brought the rush of excitement, except first semester freshman year. This semester was going to be different than the previous ones. I was excited by my classes. I was going to learn a lot. I was going to go to every class, start the homework early, and go to office hours to ask for help. I was going to come on time, sit near the front, and ask questions. Sometimes I did stick to my resolution, and these were my best classes, even though they weren't the easiest. Other times, I felt completely defeated. In a new city with no friends, difficult-to-contact advisors, and so much to get used to, I'm afraid it would be more the latter. Getting used to a new place and establishing new habits is a task in itself. The times I've been most productive are after I've already been somewhere for awhile.

I've gotten so used to my rehearsed interview answer about my research and professional goals during my postdoc that I've forgotten my real goal: get some work habits. Going to a new university where I've never been and where the presumption is that I'm productive is a plus: change your location, change your luck, as they say. Though if I feel like people think I'm far more productive than I really am --- as some seem to assume --- that could backfire because it would feel like an impossible task, especially because some of my research center colleagues are in fields where the average work habits are far far above mine. But this school might feel just as alienating as my old one. And with no compensating social life, I would feel even more alienated. On the other hand, having no friends could force me to make more work friends than I normally would, and maybe be encouraged to learn better work habits.

I've read a few chapters of this cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) book that I read several years ago, and have noticed myself arguing with my assumptions, realizing that it's not a black and white question. The new job is unlikely to be perfect, and I won't fully meet any of my goals, but I'll meet some of them partially, and get exposed to new topics. Feeling defeated would not be the end of the world, and even the terms which I count as failures were helpful to me. Giving up on my research for weeks or months at a time and concentrating on teaching was considered in the eyes of my advisor and graduate program to be a waste of time (which they told me), but it made me a devoted teacher, and my teaching statement and skills are now good enough that I came in second for a tenure-track job at an elite small college, losing only to someone from a less-well-located small college who already had tenure. That's something none of my classmates could have done. I could have balanced my work better, but maybe it was important to concentrate on teaching when I was just learning how. During my last year of grad school, I couldn't teach, but I threw myself into job application preparation, with no thought to my research, except what I needed for job talks, but job preparation requires a lot of time and I had to learn a lot; I could have balanced my research better, but I did do some. So even the difficult years did have redeeming qualities. and it's not like I've ever been not lonely, no matter where I lived. Other than in college where I ate every lunch and dinner with friends.

The upshot is: I don't know. Sending the letter last thing on Friday is the same as last thing on Sunday night, so I'll mull it over a bit before then. Part of me says that it's not a big deal to move somewhere for a year. My parents live here, so I can only take the essentials, and mail some books media rate, as if I were just going off to college. The other part of me is thinking how stressful it is to not only try to start a whole new set of research with new colleagues, but then socially to need to be "on" in order to make new friends at work and away. Though if I make friends at work, hopefully that will encourage my work habits.

This job is not a bad thing. Really. I'll just keep reading that CBT book.