What a week

A friend of mine told me a story a while ago about the day he had his first paper accepted for publication. On the same day, he also received a letter from a very thankful financially poor family to whom my friend had given his car. He said he sat there, looking at the two letters and questioned the meaning of success.

This week has been a bit like that for me. Yesterday, I submitted again that paper which has been my personal cat that came back. I just want it to go away. We added in a lot more stuff, and this time, I think, I hope, I pray, it will get accepted for publication.

I also got another PFO letter. This time from a small school, where I thought I might have a chance. I have been told that although my research proposals are good, I don't have enough publications to even warrant an interview. This post doc was my time to get papers out, but with the irreproducible project from hell, even with being the first to arrive, the often the last to leave everyday and skipping Christmas, well, those papers just haven't materialized.

Since my number of publications is something I cannot easily change, I plan to keep applying for academic positions, but I won't be holding my breath. It is time to dust off plan B, whatever plan B is. Part of me is excited about other possibilities. All the same, I am watching a dream die and it isn't very fun.

Despite my little self pity party above, I really have had to think twice about this whole thing. This week I learned someone I know has died prematurely of cancer, discovered another has it, got the news that an old friend is expecting her first child, and another friend got engaged to a fantastic girl (finally, Joel! What took you so long?!?!? If I was still single, I'd have proposed to Bethany!).

So who really cares about whether my paper gets accepted or whether I get an academic job? It doesn't really matter. The important things in life simply are not papers or professorships.

And the sun will keep on rising and setting no matter what happens.