Masters

(O’Mahony, 2015)

I remembered on the bus that I hadn’t posted and badly wanted to ignore this for tonight, write tomorrow, pre-date it and totally pretend that it had been there all along. I did not do this, I said I would post on Sunday, I am posting on Sunday. Personal growth.

My first week has been, on the whole, fantastic, I feel like the course is really for me. But while there are many positive points I could write about, I have chosen, for tonight, to focus on the one thing that is absolutely terrifying me. I have been informed that “The distinction of a Masters degree is that a master is able to reflect on what they do.” I have also been informed that they are supposed to be able to write this reflection out. Well, shit. My academically illiterate self will have to learn to ACTUALLY reference. It seems a list of web links at the end of an essay won’t cut it any more.  Words have never been my friend, I like things short and to the point and I have very loose grammar rules. I have one tone, it is sarcastic, regardless of whether its this blog or a formal letter. Theses have words, many words. And I have to write one.

I also have to learn to read. Because it turns out somewhere in the past 4 years I lost that ability. I really haven’t had to do anything more than skim and now I can’t do anything but. I’ve attempted the first weeks assigned reading (~90 pages) twice now and still only have a vague gist of the contents. Something, something usability, yadda, yadda interaction. As you can see, it’s going really well.

How has it taken me until now to realise that academia doesn’t suit me?

Also it is super weird coming back to college, thinking it’s going to be mostly the same and then realising that you don’t have any friends any more. Or a studio to eat lunch in.