The end of an era

So I did it. I finally made a decision and accepted a job offer! In less than six months I will be an Assistant Professor. Mostly I'm excited at the prospect of having my own lab, but every so often my brain goes, "Holy s--t! I have a real job!"

I've been training for this job for... 12 years now? Not content with my string of unsatisfying jobs in retail and strangely excited by my cousin's college course catalog, I started taking courses at the college down the street in 2000. After moving to one of the local universities and experimenting with a wide variety of courses, I finally settled on a major. Somehow this snowballed into volunteering in a lab, writing an honours thesis, and applying to grad school. Then came five years of masochism grad school, where I spent countless hours training to be a professor one day. The training continued with a postdoctoral position, the idea being that you are more independent but still being pounded into shape for that fateful day when you become a professor.

It feels really weird to know that the training era is over. Not that I won't still be continually learning new things, but now I will be responsible for training other people instead of being trained myself. Freaky.

Also, I today I got to delete all my RSS feeds for job ads! My google reader is a little less full, but I'm sure I can find something entertaining on the internet to take up that space.

Decisions, Decisions

I am about to complain about something that will probably not garner me a lot of sympathy: I have multiple job offers and making a decision is really hard!

Yes, I know. I do realize that this is the academic equivalent of First World Problems. There are starving children in Africa postdocs with no job offers. Of all the problems one could have, this really isn't such a bad one. No matter which decision I make, I will end up with a tenure-track faculty position at an R1 institution (RU/VH in the new Carnegie classification system, which no one on the job search wiki seems to use, but I digress). So really, I'm in a pretty awesome position and I know it.

But despite knowing how lucky I am, making such a huge life decision still makes me feel like my head is going to explode. What if I make the wrong decision? What if I end up hating everyone I work with? What if they all end up hating me? What if I work my ass off and still don't get tenure? Where am I going to have the best luck attracting good grad students? What about all the fringe benefits: which place has the best health insurance, retirement plans, etc. Which climate do I prefer, too hot or too cold? Will the start-up package be enough to cover what I need? The list of questions running through my mind is pretty endless at this point.

To combat my current mental disorganization, I am creating an overly-complicated pro/con spreadsheet, complete with ridiculous colour-coding and a bizarre scheme for awarding points for different factors. I will probably revise the points scheme at least 3 more times before the end of the day tomorrow. I suspect that after spending days rating and calculating, one school will emerge the winner - at which point I will either feel happy or disappointed and will know which place I prefer. I suppose I could just draw a name out of a hat and see how I feel about it to save myself the time and stress, but there's just something about colour-coded spreadsheets I really enjoy.

The Hidden Dangers of Job Interviews

When you are invited for a campus interview it is completely normal to be excited. Other people will congratulate you and be excited for you. Of course, it is a fantastic thing. What no one ever talks about are the downsides to interviewing. Namely, that it kills your productivity.

With my first job interview the problem was that I had to spend an enormous amount of time preparing my talk and google-stalking all the faculty to find out about their research and the school and whatnot. A solid two weeks before the interview was devoted to interview prep at the expense of all my other work.

This latest interview took up much less of my time on prep, as I only needed to tweak an existing job talk. However, interviewing means plane travel in the middle of winter with inconsiderate sick people coughing all over the place. This time I came home post-interview to discover I had inherited the germs expelled by the woman sitting next to me, thus dramatically reducing my ability to write manuscripts.

Productivity aside, the other hidden danger is caused by the fancy interview clothes one is forced to wear. 1) you look like an ass at the airport, travelling in a suit while everyone else is in jeans and sweatshirts. 2) Winter + dress shoes = increased likelihood of falling down and making a fool of yourself (yes, I did this). 3) Pencil skirt + getting in/out of a pick-up truck = looking like an idiot and possibly flashing people. Invest in a pant suit or nice trousers for your job talk, totally worth it.

Rejection Letters

'Tis now the time of year when the bevy of rejection letters arrives in ones mailbox. If you're a normal person anyway. I'm sure there is some superstar out there who is getting tons of job offers and has yet to feel the sting of rejection. I, however, am not that superstar and my inbox is amassing a collection of "I regret to inform you" emails.

And yet, I haven't been truly disappointed or upset by any of my rejections for job applications this year. Given the craptastic market and the stories I keep hearing about people not getting any interviews at all, I'm mostly happy that I got some interviews and that they are all at pretty good places. I recall finding the rejection from grad schools more hurtful, like they didn't think I was good enough to accept into their program (those bastards!). But I guess after years of rejection from funding agencies and journals (I'm looking at you Science, Nature, Nat Neurosci, PNAS, Psyc Sci, J Neurosci), I've gotten to a point where the rejection is just part of the job. I would, of course, prefer not to be rejected, but when the other 15 13 (got two more emails) rejection letters I'm expecting show up in my inbox I will just shrug and move on.

I'm actually finding the rejection letters themselves really interesting. Although they all have the same basic info ("We don't want you!") every school has their own take on the rejection form letter. Some were very formal (Dear Dr. <LastName>), some were more casual (Dear <FirstName>), while some went full-on form-letter with a "Dear Applicant" or not using a salutation at all and just getting right to the rejection part. Some have cushioned the rejection nicely, "Thank you for giving us the opportunity to consider your application. I regret to inform you that you have not been chosen for further consideration for this position. Please know that this should not be considered a negative reflection on your work. The pool of candidates was large and the search committee was forced to make very difficult decisions. We wish you the very best in your career and future endeavors." Others were very short and to the point, "I am writing to share officially the news that the position has been filled. We wish you the best of luck and we thank you for your interest in University X."

With each new rejection letter I take a few moments to enjoy the language and psychology of it then I file it away in a folder and go about my business. I haven't yet gotten to the point where I feel the need to attempt this tactic:

via Geeks Are Sexy