Paranoid

I really don't want to dwell on this particular thought because of the following reasons:

• If it's true, then everyone here thinks I'm an idiot
• If it's false, then I'm just an idiot for thinking it.
• I could be digging myself into a hole
  

I've had a rough time last semester adapting to both living in Madison and working in the PhD program. I'll admit that my own lack of self-esteem has taken a major toll on my image within the department. Yet, I cannot stop myself. I keep jokingly maintaining that I have "no idea why I'm here," and others remain silent instead of positively reinforcing my reasons for being here. Why do I need this continual positive reinforcement? That's just ridiculous! And, I can completely understand why these people would choose to remain silent since I keep saying it. True, they could be thinking that I am unworthy of being here. Or they could just be absolutely sick of hearing me constantly put myself down. I should just stop talking!

Personally, I've finally come to terms with being at a highly ranked school. I finally feel comfortable enough to not really worry what others think. . yet, this also has slightly more positive ramifications in the classroom as I no longer fear talking and asking questions.

Although those that sit in silence generally appear slightly more intelligent than my random prattling, I still recall what it's like to be a TA and just sitting and waiting for a response from my students. It was totally disappointing when they just sat there and had nothing to say. I would rather entertain silly questions than silence. But, that's just me.

I honestly can't say that I'm really enjoying this semester, but I can't say that I hate it either. I've become much more comfortable in this happy medium between passion and distaste. Although, I don't really enjoy most of the material I've been reading. . . I find myself to be so much more analytical and critical of it than if I did. However, I really loved reading AYLI again. . . and Michel de Certeau's The Practice of Everyday Life. . . and Lisa Cooper's "Bed, Boat, and Beyond." These have been the highlights of my recent weeks, and I'm finding myself more and more enthralled by theory and criticism than by actual texts. Is something happening to me?

Maybe I ought to read more "high" theory this summer? Maybe that's what I'm currently missing in my academic life?