The Australian Association of Writing Programs

I'm sitting here on my sofa, trying very hard not to do something.  Christmas always manges to send me into a kind of meltdown.  After a few days of shopping, writing cards, buying seafood and wrapping presents the meaninglessness of the whole enterprise starts to bother me.  Really bother me.  I feel coerced into putting so much effort into this thing, this gigantic many headed beast, and I resent it.  Usually because I'm tired; tired from the demands of academia, of being an early career researcher, of always wondering what comes next.  This tiredness differs

As the ridiculous time of year approaches, it is inevitable that many of us will be thinking of next year and wondering what awaits us.  Many of us will be facing the pressure of deadlines, many will be worrying about not being able to turn off from our PhDs, or worrying that we will, and that all the information we have accumlulated will slip away from us after a few days of not thinking about it.  Many others will be frantically compiling PhD-specific New Year's resolutions. 

I'm sitting in Auckland airport; airports are half-way houses of a type, and I feel as though I am halfway between new zealand and australia.  I've been in NZ for the AAWP conference, and a few days later, I feel as though I'm still trying to absorb all the information that I was given by colleagues.