The Warm-up

This is a drive-by to let you know that I’m not dead.

I wish I could say many things; aphorisms about how hard I’ve been working this week, comforting thoughts about how I’m nearing the end, or really just something poignant about the process I’m going through right now.

Unfortunately, they would all be lies.

The process is only beginning.  I’m just dipping my toes into the ocean that is studying for comps.  I’ve been working hard, but it’s only a warm-up for the big leagues that are ever so steadily coming my way this summer.

For that, this warm-up period is important.  You can never, ever, throw yourself into the

This was the amusing thing that happened yesterday when my comps pile for the day caved in on itself.

This was the amusing thing that happened yesterday when my comps pile for the day caved in on itself.

deep end and expect to swim when you’re plumb exhausted.  I took a break, but quickly found that that break wasn’t enough.  A good friend reminded me that fatigue is cumulative and yes, I just achieved an enormous step in this whole “becoming a Doctor” process (even though the next mountain is about twice as high and infested with Yetis) it’s no wonder I’m so damned tired.  Giving into this sometimes is only going to help me in the long run and I can study during the intervals between naptime, so long as I keep naptime under control.  In other words:    warming my brain back up to the idea of working is an important step.

It’s not pleasant.  I would liken it to those first few days at the gym pushing yourself into a brand new workout regime: i’s sweaty, uncomfortable, and no matter how good you know it is for you, you never want to go do it.  You wake up exhausted and sore the next day with only the knowledge that, in order to achieve your goals, you must do it again.  And again.  And again.

So I’m hitting it.  I’m holding myself to deadlines, I’m withholding the appropriate bribery forms (often times I have to physically walk away from my desk to keep myself from messing around on the internet instead of reading Greek tragedy), I’m keeping a proper scheduling (SCHEDULING IS IMPORTANT!  Nothing creates burnout like too much work crammed into an undoable amount of time!), and I’m making sure I eat and exercise regularly.

For that, I’m tired.  I’m stressed.  And I don’t see it getting better anytime soon.

This summer is just going to be another exercise in staying in the red and finding the energy.  But you know what?  Sometimes, you just have to get it together and muscle through.

If you need me, I’ll be buried under this pile of books for the next few months.  Don’t mind the occasional bouts of cursing, snoring, or drooling.

Not a Doctor Yet

Hello, all.

Having taken my break, I’m back in the game today.  I hit the ground running with some Brockett and Hildy (as any good Drama comps taker should) and proceeded onto some reading about rituals and the origin of Drama (problematic theory, blah blah, many details that most of the population will never care about but since I’ve decided to devote my life to bettering myself by way of the mind I need to know at least for the moment).

Over the course of the past week, I’ve been asked by many of my friends if I’m “a doctor yet”.  Let me clear this one up: NO.  I’m SO not a Doctor yet.  I’m WAY far out from being a Doctor still.  In fact, despite the fact that I’m about a half to a third of the way through the process by way of time (two years in to what should be a 4-7 year process), I’ve probably only done about a fourth of the work.

So the next thing they ask is “well what happens now?”

Here’s what happens now: I spend the summer studying for my exams.  What this means in practice is cramming into my already-full mind every single detail about theatre history, actor training, the history of scenic design, theatre technologies, famous actors, playwrights, and important plays that I can possible manage.  I will be held accountable for all of this information in the fall when I take my comprehensive exams.

At Tufts Dance and Drama, comprehensive exams (or “comps” for those of us fondly acquainted with them) consist of basically a week-long process.  Two days of in-house test-taking, then a weekend take-home.  It’s an essay-based procedure which essentially examines the student’s ability to craft arguments out of the vast amount of theatre history described above.

It’s extremely stressful.

After comps (non-denominational-deity-willing that I pass them), I then proceed to my orals.  This consists of two lengthy lectures which I will give on topics of my choosing within certain parameters set by the department (parameters mostly relating to the breadth of topics and how similar they can be) to a panel of professors whom I assemble.

Once I do this, provided I appease the savage gods of academia, I will take a month off.

My Coffee Table today: a still life

My Coffee Table today: a still life

Once I return from my month off, I will write a proposal for my dissertation.  This will be reviewed by my diss advisor and likely rejected several times with suggestions for revision before it is accepted.

Once this is accepted, I start writing.

I write for a good year (if not two or three) then come back with a book-length manuscript.  That golden dissertation.

Then I defend it.

Then I get a pat on the shoulder from the department, provided I’ve once again done well and appeased the savage academic gods, and then (oh then) you can call me “Doctor”.

Each of the steps on this road is huge, important, and extremely stressful.  I appreciate the support and love of my friends and compatriots, and will require it in spades as I continue down my path to enlightenment and letters after my name.  Every achievement is a hard-fought battle and will leave scars.  Just because I may appear to have a cavalier attitude about it does not mean that it’s not a big deal (don’t let me fool you).

So: I thank you for your congratulations.  I appreciate the excitement and I understand how confusing this process must be for someone completely outside of it (heck, it confuses me sometimes and I’m the one doing it).  But no, I’m not a Doctor yet.  And every small status change (Done coursework!  ABD! Doctoral Candidate rather than Doctoral Student!) is HUGE.

Blood, sweat, and tears.  A whole lot of sleepless nights.

I do love my job, but there’s a long way to go.

Here’s to another two to five years!

Dipping Toes in the Shallow End

This morning, despite the urgings of my ever-loving bed, I got up.  I went and sat at my desk.  I opened a book.  I read assigned pages.  I took notes on it.  I thought about what I was reading.

When I was done with that, I saved the PDFs of this week’s reading assignment to my dropbox and opened that on my ipad.  I read it.  I took notes.  I thought about it, in turn.

When I was done with that, I cracked my script.  I reviewed some scenes, did some text work, highlighted and underlined some things, and took some marginalia notes on that.

When I was done with that, I sent a few e-mails and took care of some long-awaited administrative business that I really couldn’t start the semester without doing.

Now that I’m done with that, I think I’m going to go relax on the couch for a good long time.  Break may be winding down but it’s not officially over until Wednesday.

Although I will say this: despite the fact that having absolutely nothing to do on a given day is a rare luxury (and one I don’t generally afford myself, even during breaktime), having something one must do on a given day certainly works to relieve my anxiety about things I can’t really do anything about in this moment anyway.  Every time I so much as think the word “comps”, the bottom drops out of my stomach and I get an overwhelming feeling of

Ah yes.  My love.  My Preeeeciousssss.

Ah yes. My love. My Preeeeciousssss.

vertigo.  Whenever I glance at my German (a necessary obstacle before I even get to my comps), I find a little demon sitting on my shoulder whispering to me “DU KANNST ES NICHT!”  Somehow, hitting deadlines that are absolutely within my control and things that I know I am capable of doing alleviates this stress.

I will kill that demon.  He’s not long for this world.  I just need to work up some courage first.  It’s probably going to come in liquid form; I’m deep in the torrid thralls of a love affair with the cappuccino machine my folks gifted me with for Christmas.  Let me tell you, it’s done wonders to alter my outlook on life.