Big life decisions

I wrote this on 21 May. It has little to do with actual travelling, except for the fact it was inspired by my travels.

What am I going to do with my life? This is a question that has often occuppied my thoughts, especially this past year, a year that I took off primarily because I wanted to sort out an answer. Although I wasn't entirely sure I'd worked it out before leaving for Asia, I was pleased to have at least a satisfactory--albeit vague--plan. I'd return to Toronto in September, reinvigorated by my travels. I'd work towards my PhD, taking summers off to explore the world. I'd do some freelance science writing on the side to broaden my horizons, open up my options, and maybe even earn some extra cash (!). Sorted.

But for the first time since I began my travels, as I sit in a crowded, poorly-ariconditioned bus to Chiang Khong, a new option has materialised in my head: what if I just didn't come back? Perhaps it's far too early to properly consider such an option; I have only been travelling for about two weeks now. But I have thoroughly--and I mean thoroughly--enjoyed my time here so far. Why not extend it.... indefinitely?

I could pick up some work, perhaps as a teacher, or really just anything else for which a knowledge of English is an assett. I met a guy last night who works as a tour guide; he told me I could become one, an earn a whopping $70 per day. How cool would that be?

I'm not sure I'm ready for the 'real' world of living in the city, working long hours, weekends that come and go too quickly. I don't even know if I want to be part of the world of academia, which I consider to be semi-real, with its flexible working hours and lax deadlines. But because I enjoy lists, below are my reasons for wanting to begin my PhD come September in the first place. Some might seem a bit silly and 'wrong', but rest assured that each one is almost equally important to me.

1) The working hours. As a first-year PhD student, I have all of six hours a week when I need to be somewhere at a particular time. Those are just class hours; if you add in teaching assisstantships, meetings, and the like, you get maybe twenty hours--and that's a generous estimate.

2) The pay. I'm not kidding. Although graduate students make a notoriously low sum of money, it is fixed, stable and enough to live off of. Plus, as has been comically noted in a PhD comic, if you divide a graduate student's 'salary' by the number of hours he or she spends working, you get a really high hourly wage.

3) Freedom. To do what you want, when you want. A day off here and there? No problem. Drinking on a Tuesday night? Sure! This is directly related to 1, and the reason why I am able to do cool things like rowing.

4) Putting off adulthood and reponsibility. As a grad student, I'm still a student. As a student, I'm not yet an adult.

grad student --> student --> kid --> low-level responsibility

5) Thinking. Philosophy requires an analytical kind of thought process that I thrive on. I can't think of anything more mentally fulfilling than trying to solve philosophical quandries. Discussing these things is also good fun, especially over beers!

6) Writing. I simply love to write!

Although each one of these things is highly appealing, academia has its definite shortcomings. I've never quite felt comfortable in academic circles; I feel like an outsider, constantly trying to prove my worth. Is philosophy of science important enough--to me, to anyone--to devote so much time to? I'm not sure it is. I'm not sure it benefits anyone other than the academics who occuppy their minds with it. Could my time not be better spent doing something more productive, more beneficial to others?

Having said all of this, I do realise that I am perhaps the most fickle person on the face of the earth, and will probably see all of this in a different light tomorrow. So don't worry, fellow HAPSATers (is that a word?)--I'll see you all in September!