I have just decided to do a Masters degree. Eek!
It was always on the cards, but I didn't really make up my mind until this last week, and I was pretty blasé about it, considering it the safe option that logically followed my Honours year and wouldn't require much more pressure.
Have suddenly realised I am incredibly unintelligent when it comes to predicting my future. I am freaking out. When it comes down to it and I actually have to put some work into finding a topic, I realise that suddenly I am studying at an academic level at which originality is crucial, and all the topics I had in mind have been done already. I realise that I am plunging into a world where I will not be having weekly meetings with my supervisor, like last year, nor his constant guidance; where the entire Department of History staff are going to hear my proposal and grill me on it, in a few short weeks from now; where famous historians are going to read the end product (if, indeed, I finish) and tell me what's wrong with it. *long, drawn-out scream*
Why am I doing this to myself? What possesses people to take on postgraduate study? I have a horrible fear that suddenly everyone will realise that everything I've done so far that has turned out to be halfway good has been a complete fluke.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
You are awesome & smart & wonderful & a Masters degree is a big scary thing but nothing that you can't handle!
You'll be brilliant. Everyone panics about the dissertation. If you weren't panicking, that'd be an indicator that you were in over your head, but you seem to be right on schedule.
All the positive, encouraging stuff that Sara & Stacy said? DITTO. I have no doubt that you're more smartilitious than anyone I know for a REASON.
You can always do your masters on wise-ass Texans who like to make up silly words.
Post a Comment