The Question

Academia is a funny thing. Somehow you're being "productive" even though you're more or less a drain on society at best. You're busy all the time, and the only thing it rewards you with is a crippling coffee habit that puts the majority of government workers to shame. One would also hope that you are studying something that piques your interest. If not, well, enjoy the slow ride to hell.

These factors often lead people, including me, to lie in bed staring off into space wondering "What is the damned point of all this? Am I wasting my time?"

Every time I ask myself this question, I then think about the alternatives. What the heck would I be doing if I wasn't "being a student" or "pursing further education in the hopes I will achieve a salary that freshly minted bachelor's graduates at Lockheed Martin would sneer at?"

The answer turns out to be "nothing more glamorous than what I'm doing right now." Seriously. What sort of grand plan would I be pursuing at this moment? Not like there are a cornucopia of options out there. At best, I would most likely be living with my parents and sulking around while working a retail job. At worst, I'd probably be living with my parents and unemployed like it was my job.

In the end, however, this is what I wanted to do for a while. I wanted to study history. I could've been like every other wonk in IT and solely concentrated on that and possibly picked up more useful things like a certificate in Network Administration or a minor in computer science. Instead, I picked up history because I liked it and it would keep me from going completely and utterly insane while listening to some of the mouth-breathing glassy-eyed wastes of space in my classes express their "opinions." Plus, there are career options. It looks like most of my professors are not sitting in their offices counting out their food stamps. I'm sure museums need someone to watch the interns. And hell, it was interesting and I found that I was kind of good at it. Why not pursue it?

Sometimes I'm more troubled by the fact that I sit around and question whether or not I'm wasting my time than the actual answer. Shouldn't I just know?, I wonder. But then I realize that wondering doesn't mean crap if you don't come up with an answer. Crises are simple sound and fury signifying nothing if they don't produce a useful plan of action. I simply don't bother with them. There are too many readings to do and too many cups of coffee to slug.

Wondering is not a terrible thing. Asking yourself questions like "Do I really want to do this?" serve a purpose. But if you decide that it's worth it to walk through hell, well, keep on going.