Category Archives: Process

Experience

I’m on track to finish the research phase of Chapter 2 in four weeks (compared to Chapter 1’s six weeks). I attribute my increased efficiency to the elimination of unnecessary research methods.

  • First time: I wrote out and then typed all my notes. Now: I cut and paste. I think I was overly concerned with my ability to remember everything I read last time. I’m more confident now.
  • First time: I transferred the complete chapter into the dissertation template used to format theses at my school. Now: I’m writing Chapter 2’s rough draft is in the correct format.
  • First time: A bit enamored with the volume of my research, I numbered each source chronologically. Now: I don’t waste time finding, assigning, and editing my “item numbers.”
  • First time: I entered bibliographic information into EndNote before I started looking at a source. Now: I wait until I’ve read it and only enter sources into EndNote that I believe I will cite in the chapter.

In general, I was a bit fussy and over-serious the first time around. I got off my high horse for Chapter 2, and my work is the better for it.

Expert Loneliness

“To evaluate a work of art is, among other things, to estimate its potential value for others; but while our ability to make that estimation correctly certainly increases in time with all our general and specific knowledge, it also decreases in time as we become less and less like anyone else, and thus less able to predict anyone else’s response on the basis of our own.”
–from Contingencies of Value: Alternative Perspectives for Critical Theory by Barbara Hernstein Smith:

At a certain phase during research, you feel the joy of special knowledge–of realizing that no one has ever looked at the material quite this way. You see something different, and you value that seeing deeply.

But being an expert can also isolate you. I remember one day when The Future Mister Doctor Jones came home from work, I was all excited about seeing a certain poet’s knees on video. And it was impossible to explain.

Time Sheets for Graduate Students: Assets and Liabilities

At different times in my graduate school career, I have kept a record of how many hours I’ve worked. The record looks something like this, penciled into a calendar box:

Thursday, October 18
Spanish—1 hour
Typing Notes (on 2 articles)—1 hour
Grading—3 hours

Last week, I was despairing over my inability to work. Then, this week, it occurred to me to count up the total hours I’d logged: 27. I compared it with my total hours two weeks ago: 27.5. What a relief—I didn’t stop working, even though I wasn’t feeling emotionally tough.

My friend The Future Doctor Gale got herself into trouble with time sheets. She made herself sign in and out of her office, and tried to force herself to work eight hours a day. This led to a lot of anxiety and guilt over “missed” work. Her acupuncturist advised her to let herself work a maximum five hours per day instead, and that system is working wonders for her quality of life and productivity level.

I know that a maximum would never work for me—I excel at quitting work early. But I don’t set a minimum either.

No matter how you approach the working week, it’s not good to be too rigid with yourself. In the last three weeks, I’ve worked between 2.5 – 9.5 hours per day. But for me, it’s very reassuring to be able to look back and see that mostly I’ve worked between 4-6 hours per day. Then I can’t make up mean lies about what a lazy good-for-nothing I am.

Note: If you can work 8 hours a day, day after day, week after week, you need to write me and explain your process. Because everything I’ve learned about process in graduate school has proved that 5 is a much more sustainable number

Just Keep Asking the Question If You Don’t Like The Answer

Still dwelling on the hours of work lost due to tonsillitis, I mentioned my frustration to my therapist. She asked me a hard question. “What can you accomplish by thinking about this?”

All my life, I have tried to learn from bad experiences. I ruminated on relationships-gone-wrong until I felt I could be a better, stronger, more confident girlfriend the next time around. I analyzed myself until I could explain any irrational behavior. I examined each hour of Spider Solitaire-playing to try to determine how I could be a more productive writer. And now I was trying in some demented way to figure out how to prevent illnesses.

I thought it was good to try to understand my work habits and become consistent. But the fact is, sometimes I write at a desk of chaos, and sometimes I don’t feel right until everything is in its place. Often staying in a routine keeps me focused, and sometimes I am extra-productive when breaking a routine.

My therapist said something that probably shocked me more than it will shock you. She said, “everyone wastes time.” Now, this statement is obviously true. But I haven’t been working my way towards a Ph.D. as if I knew that everyone wastes time. I’ve been on a quest for infinite efficiency.

I’ve worried so much about how to be more productive that now it’s time to worry about worrying about being productive. (That’s what we do in academia, right?) In order to stop wasting time worrying about wasting time, I have to accept that I will never work with perfect efficiency. Never ever.

I keep fighting the urge to end this post with some hunky-dory message like, “I’ll never be perfect, but I’ll always keep learning how to be better.” No. Maybe I’ll waste less time at age 47 than age 27 or maybe I won’t. I just hope at 47, I’ll do less worrying about worrying about worrying about wasting time, and really enjoy Spider Solitaire, dammit.