It was during my third year of my postdoc that I began to submit job applications in earnest. Postings in my discipline seemed relatively rare, and when I considered my actual 'expertise' - the field which I had been trained in - it seemed as though none of them truly fit. I finalized my current CV, wrote a long, boring cover letter, and in total, sent off ten applications for tenure-track positions. I excluded some positions (but not all) based on location. I was not at all confident in my applications when I truly thought about them, but I convinced myself that I had a shot. Someone had to get these jobs, and I had an OK CV including a prestigious postdoc coupled with a fresh desire to conquer the research world (which had taken several steps back in the last year). I started to investigate the places where the jobs were located including housing prices and activities. I pictured life at these particular universities and started to get excited about working there. A couple of them I felt as though I would truly belong. How could I possibly know? I had met nearly no one there and had never visited, but I solidly convinced myself it was meant to be. Ten applications seemed like a lot, and I knew I would get a couple of interviews and maybe even a couple of offers that I would have to choose between. I came up with many different arguments considering scenarios of which offer I should accept. What would I do if both University A and University B offered me a position? What if I got an offer from one, but the process hadn't finalized for some of the other ones that I figured I wanted the most? How do I go about asking for more time if I had an offer in my hand? It is going to be tough to pick from so many opportunities! I actually started to stress about the inevitable decision I would have to make.
A month passed. I became acquainted with the academic waiting game - the confusing process required by applicants as committees are formed and candidate profiles are reviewed at an incredibly slow rate because no one cares to fill an academic position quickly. I remained hopeful, and my days were continually highlighted with the prospect of receiving an email inviting me for an interview. I continued to picture myself moving to one of these places - some days I knew I would be a perfect fit for University A, and others I knew it would be University B. I had the world by the tail.
Four months passed. No emails came. The F5 key on my keyboard was starting to wear from constant use. Every time I walked past my computer, I checked my emails. Every time I walked by my mailbox, I checked. I got stressed when I couldn't check constantly, and when that happened, I felt a strong surge of anxiety/excitement to open up my email program. There had to be something there now...
It ran my life.
I couldn't concentrate fully on anything else. I needed to be moving into the next stage of my life. I did receive one letter in the mail stating that ' the competition was fierce for this position and we received many excellent applications including yours. Unfortunately...' Oh well, at least they wrote a letter and tied it off for me. Sometime after, I started to forget about the applications. F5 got a break. My mind felt 'healthier' again. The problem was, I had learned nothing, other than I hate waiting for things to happen in my life. I settled again into my postdoc work, and believed I could make the best of it as the job it was, with no means to an end. It was just a job. I don't have to look for something else, I just need to do my current job, and that is it. Of course, this type of rationalizing only serves to suppress the problem and hide it away in the recesses of my mind. Over the next few months, constant reminders abounded, prodding the painful problem to begin to resurface.
There is no future.
You can't stay here forever.
But where is there to go?
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