Postdoc, Anyone?

So Friday I met with the neuropsychologist I've trained with for the last six years about a potential postdoc. About a month ago, he resigned from his position at the public hospital in Fort Worth to go into private practice with two neurologists in an area closer to DFW airport. When I walked into his office, I was shocked to find that it was a REAL office, not an old patient room in the old wing of the hospital - or a broom closet. It wasn't stacked "up to there" with piles of files and test equipment and various stuff because there was actually room to store everything. He looked relaxed - and happy - for the first time since I'd met him in the fall of 2001.

After the "How's the family's," I asked him, "So, how's business out here in the suburbs?"

He smiled as he replied, "If I have two more months like the one I just had, I will have made a year's salary at the hospital."

"No shit?"

(more grinning) "No shit."

Long story short, he's still interested in mentoring me. I'm still interested in learning from him. So we're going to do business in the way we've done in the last six years. We just have to work out the details.

Woohoo! No silly APPIC match for me -- again! This is the way it should be. If people want to work together then they agree to work together - no intermediaries, no huge piles of resumes mailed out to every program in the world and absolutely no computer matching. The coolest parts though are that I don't have to break in another supervisor and I'll still have the flexibility and understanding about family responsibilities I've enjoyed all along.

More as things develop...

What to Do?

I'm in a bit of a quandary. I enjoy the interactions with my readers and the creative outlet of nonacademic writing, so I don't want to abandon this blog. I'm just not sure where to go from here. School and my dissertation are, for all intents and purposes, finished, so now what? Do I rename it to reflect the next phase of my life? If so, what? Postdoc Hell, Postdoc Purgatory or something entirely different? Do I re-vamp the template or leave it alone? Do I continue posting personal stuff along with tidbits about how to get through or stick to strictly items of either personal or professional interest? Should I set up another blog for professional interest articles and leave this one alone?

What do you think?

Changes

Looking back to when I started this blog in late 2006, its original focus was to give me a place to vent my frustrations about the dissertation process in the last leg of graduate school. At the time, this space was called, "Maunderings from Dissertation Hell," and the posts were composed of much wailing and gnashing of teeth, reflective of one under constant torture. Just the act of sitting down to write something - anything - helped grease the wheels of the writer within me, so I often used blogging as a cognitive warm up to the more intensive writing of dissertating.

Once the dissertation was finally complete and I was PHinisheD, I began the most unusual postdoctoral fellowship in the world. Since I was no longer dissertating, but treading water in postdoc, the blog was retitled, "Prattling in Postdoc Purgatory." I didn't blog much during that time because honestly I didn't want to bore my beloved readers with more whining, so there was precious little actual prattling done. I've also been juggling anywhere from 1 to 3 additional jobs during that time, so there's been precious little actual time for prattling to actually happen.


I finally passed the final hurdle in January. It's been a little over two weeks since I sent off the last pile of money and paperwork to the Great State of Texas for the license to practice what I've trained to do for over a decade without training wheels. Once the postman brings that precious piece of paper via certified mail in a couple of weeks, I'll have visible proof that I have been "brave, truthful and unselfish," and can finally be a "real" boy.

Since I'll finally be in private practice as a neuropsychologist, and will no longer have to keep proving myself worthy, the topics I blog about will also change with that very significant change in my life. In addition to my usual stuff - bragging about The Girl, discussing our famous gatherings, sharing recipes, I'm thinking of discussing neuropsychology-specific information & cases and sharing what's working/not working as I grow my practice.

The problem is, I don't know what to rename my little slice of blogdom. Here are a couple of ideas I've been mulling over, but nothing really "snaps" for me:

Nerdwina Brainiac's Practice Effects

Confessions of a NeuroNerd

...and the trees looked like neurons...

From the Backal Lobes

What do you think, dear readers? Do you have any ideas or suggestions? I'm open...

Hobbled

I apologize for not posting much of late. A lot's been going on. I've been waiting patiently for my provisional license paperwork to go through since early December. It finally came in last week. The state board will even allow me to sit for my final oral examination for full licensure while I'm finishing my postdoc year. Since they're only conducted in January and July, I've sent in the money (while I still have some) to sit in July . That way come December 4, I'm ready to practice on my own. I even got to pick my specialty area - neuropsychology. That's the good part.

The bad part is that I can't do a damn thing with a provisional psychology license, even though it's supposed to be a step up from the Associate's license I've held since 2004. Despite the fact that I've been doing neuropsychological and psychological assessment for the last six years and have somewhere in the area of six thousand hours in practicum, specialized clinical training, research practicum, internship and doctoral research, without that last piece of paper apparently I still don't have enough experience to do anything without having my hand held. Part of what my postdoc is supposed to entail is testing geriatric patients (my area of expertise, by the way). These people inevitably have Medicare. After wading through the national Medicare website and the state Medicare website for what feels like months and not finding information relevant to the questions I had, I was randomly picked to participate in a survey. Several of the survey questions dealt with the type and relevance of information that came up in the search results (1 search term = 10,000 irrelevant hits, 2 search terms = 20,000 irrelevant hits), the availability of customer support (nonexistent) and how satisfied I was with the service overall (yeah right). I posted my unvarnished opinions - in polite language, no less, gave them my contact information, and hit "submit."

The next morning a customer care representative named Jennifer called me from the state Medicare servicer. She was very sweet and polite and not at all the typical government drone. She actually wanted to help. I explained to her that the information I was finding was inconsistent and confusing and that I was frustrated with the process. She apologized and said that unfortunately, my complaints were not at all uncommon, in fact they were the norm and she knew what a joke it all is. She didn't know the answers to my questions, and didn't know where to find them, but wrote them down to go ask her supervisor and called me back within ten minutes.

Turns out that of the 3 separate sets of Medicare Part B paperwork, that I have to fill out all 3 and my boss/business partners also have to fill out all 3. That's 9 iterations of the same information. Yes, they'll be submitted in triplicate to the Department of the Office of the Division of Redundancy Department. That's irrelevant right now anyway, because with my license I can't bill Medicare. I have to be fully licensed to bill Medicare, or anyone else, despite the fact that had I pursued an MD which is a lower degree, and easier and faster to obtain, I would be able to bill Medicare with my provisional license. Stupidheads.

Why did the great bloated and lumbering government bureaucracy cross the road? Who knows? Why the hell do they do anything?

Now I can still do the testing, as long as my boss is actually in the next room (nevermind that I've done it for six years already - mostly in a public hospital, so I've Seen. It. All.), but I can't bill for my time. He can bill for me at half the rate, noting that the testing was done by a "technician," then turn around and pay me an as yet to be determined flat hourly rate as an employee. Granted, this frees up some of his time to test other patients, but we were planning for me to go out and do rural geriatric outreach. He can't be two places at once so that's out and now I have to come up with a Plan B so that I can get some money coming in. I can't wait until December to start getting paid. I like my car and want to keep it. That old Merle Haggard song, "If We Make It Through December," keeps running through my head. Most of the work I've done in the last six years has been unpaid but now that I've gotten the PhD, the student loan fairy doesn't come here anymore.

The Man, who is officially retired now and also has no foreseeable income, was great about it though. When I told him, I was really expecting much grumbling, bitching and blaming along the lines of, "Spent all that money and worked your ass off for ten years working for free and now you have the doctorate and you can't get paid? Why couldn't you just stop with a bachelor's degree like normal people?" et cetera. Instead, he shocked the hell out of me by putting his arms around me and saying, "Sorry about that, Babe. We'll make it. We always do." This is true. I've soldiered on through far worse than this - and for longer than 10 months. I'm trying to be pissed off about not this latest wave of bullshit to slog through, but after blasting through four degrees and nearly a quarter million dollars in ten years, more than anything I just feel empty and frustrated and hobbled. I've already let the student loan companies know that when my payments start coming due in late May, that I'll be needing those deferment papers immediately because I can't pay what I don't have. Sigh.

So this is where I explain my blogging silence of late, dear readers. I've been busy looking for a job that I can get paid for doing. I've put in applications to teach psychology at every possible online university I can think of, and some more that I'd never heard of. I even put in an application at the university where I earned my BS degree to teach there, which I wasn't planning to do for several more years - like after I'd gotten my student loans paid off and was getting ready to retire from clinical work. It was the only one that really looked promising. University policy is to throw away incomplete applications. There were 17 applicants and of the 17, only one other person besides me submitted all of the requisite application materials. The other person only has a Master's and is ABD in a PsyD program. That position doesn't begin until August. I've also called one of the docs I worked under during my internship. My friends who still work for her say she's begging for people to do testing for the neverending parade of people applying for social security disability and Texas Rehabilitation Commission benefits. She has 14 therapists sharing 4 offices Monday through Thursday, but I'm going to see about going in on Fridays and Saturdays when the office is officially closed to do the evals. We'll see. Cross your fingers that the "get paid for working" fairy pays me a visit.

Happy Thanksgiving, Y'all!

What? No turkey? Nah - even though I'll buy one or two around this time of year because they're on sale, I just throw them in the freezer for later. We eat turkey at weird times of the year - like for no reason other than I'm craving it. Ever oppositional and not likely to do what we're "supposed" to do, my family is just as likely to have a good lasagne or tamales or jambalaya as anything else on major holidays with pre-scripted menus. This year, I'm taking The Girl to my mom's and The Man & I are headed to some land that we lease for hunting. Three days, just the two of us...with any luck there will be much nekkidness and debauchery out there in the woods. Oh, and this year he's cooking for me. His culinary skills are rather limited so we'll be having steak, baked potato and salad tonight and grilled pork chop, some kind of potatoes and salad tomorrow night. We'll probably stop for a Sonic burger on the way home Saturday night. Life is good.

I don't care about taking a deer. We still haven't eaten all of the one The Girl gook last year. What I want is feral hog. Oh. Mah. Gawd. Becky. That's some good eatin' right thar. All they eat is acorns and bugs and they aren't hammered with the antibiotics, growth hormones or other additives, that make the meat taste weird. The meat doesn't get dried out and the flavor! Man I'm drooling just thinking about it.

Okay, so what am I thankful for? All of my wonderful family and friends, plenty to eat, lots to laugh about and relatively few worries. I'm thankful that I finally finished that neverending writing project and now people are supposed to call me "Doctor," (even though I don't insist upon it). I'm thankful that despite my having spent the last ten years pursuing my education, my teenager is relatively trouble and drama-free, as are my relationships with my spouse and my mom. I'm thankful for my new car, which is just too damn much fun to drive. I'm thankful that my postdoc is about to begin and will be just as I have envisioned it (love me some manifesting, I do!). I'm thankful that we're healthy and happy and all of our needs are more than met, as are most of our wants. Finally though, I am thankful that The Man will work his last day at the crazy-making place next Friday November 30. That's right - just one more work week and he's coming back home to me. He'll be able to work with his cattle and hay and do some consulting on the side. He'll get to set the pay rate and the rules for when, where and with whom he works.

Life is good. I wish the same and so much more for all of you.

Angst

Last Saturday I re-took the oral exam for licensure. Texas is one of only a handful of states, including Georgia, Louisiana, Oklahoma, West Virginia, New Jersey, Colorado & California, that still engages in this outdated, highly subjective final hoop to private practice. I passed the national written exam (EPPP) and the state jurisprudence (ethics) exam over four years ago at the Doctoral level within a few months of receiving my Master's degree. Then I finished my internship, and that pesky dissertation thingy to earn my PhD (the highest possible degree) and the last year I've been in postdoc. In most states that would be sufficient. Instead, I got to sit in front of the Inquisition and give answers to questions about an imaginary case off the top of my head instead of being able to consider all the aspects of the case beforehand - like I do every other day of my professional existence, during which I typically have a minimum of a week to mentally prepare for the the person who will spend time under my care. Neuropsychology a specialization that usually requires a referral. It's not 7-11. We just don't get walk-in traffic.

This time, I was able to manage my anxiety up front a lot better. Knowing what to expect going in went a long way toward not elevating that anxiety to the point where I was having panic attacks or feeling like I was going to vomit on the examiners (okay there were a few minutes at the beginning that I thought I might release the contents of my stomach onto the examination table but once we got underway, it wasn't so bad). I was able to conceptualize the case and articulate my considerations in a cogent manner and nailed the diagnosis (multiple sclerosis) right off the bat even though I'd been studying TBI (traumatic brain injury) because it comprises well over half of all neuropsychological issues. Then they started asking me about psychotherapy, which I don't do and I told them I would refer the patient and her boyfriend to someone else if they wanted couples' counseling. Still they insisted that I assume I had agreed to see them - together - for counseling - which I don't do. Ever. Psychoeducation...maybe a little crisis management with an appropriate referral, yes - but ongoing psychotherapy? Fuggedaboutit. Ain't happenin', pal. So I did the best I could to talk about an area that does not lie within my area of expertise. yippee.

I was able to tell them what I've done to enhance my professional skills without any trouble. In addition to telling them about keeping up with my continuing education as required, I talked about all the major assessment standardizations I worked on (WAIS-IV, WMS-IV, NEPSY-2, WNV, et cetera - my name's even in the manuals), talked about the continuing education module I wrote for NAPPP on cognitive care of the elderly, and about the presentation I did at our state psych association's convention on cognition and affect in the elderly. The older of the two nodded his head and got a look of "aha" recognition on his face. I think "Aha" guy was there - and I did seriously kick ass on that talk.

So I have to say that, also unlike last time, the two examiners were genuinely nice, friendly guys. There wasn't a Blackberry in sight. Nobody checked the two-way mirror for stray hairs or boogers and they appeared to be interested in what I had to say. When I got stuck, they tried to guide without giving the answer away. There were even several times when they said, "Good." I appreciated the positive feedback. Once when my answer was very succinct but to the point, they were looking at me kind of weird so I asked if they wanted further elaboration, "Aha" guy said, "No. Actually, that was exactly what we were looking for." I could see his score sheet and noticed several 8-point scores, so all that was good. Granted, there were some weak answers in there too, but they can't all be winners, and I just need 64 points to pass. After being escorted back to the holding room, I was dismissed within a few minutes, meaning that once again, I either failed miserably or I passed. I'll know in another 3 weeks or so when I get my notification letter.

It's that wait time that's killing me. I have a constant nagging in the pit of my stomach and every time I think of opening my results letter on the day that it arrives in the mail, I feel my blood pressure go up along with a wave of nausea that I haven't experienced since the early days of my pregnancy with The Girl. I'm having nightmares, waking up sweaty and in a panic, and am on the verge of tears at any given moment. These folks have the key to my professional future and all these years later I'm still whining and scratching at the door like a dog wanting to come in from the cold and be fed.

I've said repeatedly that Psychology is a field that eats its young. Had I known going in how treacherous the path would be, I'd have become a physician and would already have my training wheels off. The licensing process in psychology seems to be more about keeping new practitioners in a one-down position for as long as possible than anything else, and I wonder if they're really concerned with ensuring that there are enough practitioners available to serve our communities, especially in a state that is as grossly underserved as Texas. I've been formally studying psychology with the intent of becoming a psychologist since returning to college in the spring of 1997 and I cranked out 4 degrees in the next ten years. My doctoral program began in the fall of 2000. My training with actual patients began a year later. I graduated with 96 credits more than I needed for the PhD, including a concentration in neuropsychology and a 3.76 gpa to boot. That said, how much is enough?

Another Snag

Just when I thought I was done... The proofreader's corrections have been handled and my dissertation is ready to publish except for one huge detail. I needed permissions from 3 people to use graphics and a modified table from their research in order for UMI to publish my dissertation. I sent emails asking for those 2 & 1/2 weeks ago when I found out I needed to get permissions for these (why someone -anyone- didn't clue me in to that little nugget months ago, I have no idea). Two of the people responded within an hour of my initial request and gave me permission not only to use their work now but in the future in the event I go completely insane and decide to do more research based on my results. Nice huh - even though monkeys are more likely to fly out of my ass than I will voluntarily engage in more research. The third guy is seriously pissing me off. After 3 emails and a voicemail from me, plus a voicemail from him Monday morning apologizing for the delay and promising said permission by the end of business Monday, I still don't have it. It's not like it's a difficult process. Because of today's reliance on electronic communication, all he has to do is reply to one of my emails and say, "Yes, you have my permission to use this table in your published dissertation." That's it. It took him longer to dial my phone number and leave me a message than it took to type that sentence. I can't start my postdoc and get on with the rest of my non-academic life until I have that permission, get the thing printed and the final copies land on the dissertation coordinator's desk at the school.

What the hell is it with people? You know, this is America - everyone is so busy they can't find their own asses with both hands - EVERYONE! Sadly, such the nature of our society. Some people adapt and overcome and get things done anyway - especially no-brainer stuff. Others, use their particular level of "busy" as an excuse, when in reality they're no busier than the next person.

All is not lost though. The work is in the public domain. I was just asking permission as a professional courtesy. I'm giving him until tomorrow. If I don't hear from him by then, I'm citing it as such, getting the damn thing printed and moving on.

Setting it Free

Well, I did it. I finally finished up those accursed edits, with 9 pages to spare over and above HMMDC's arbitrary 100 pages (as in "You can't throw a dissertation down the stairs if it's under 100 pages.") - Gaah...almost makes me wish I hadn't developed such a tight academic writing style. I have found myself all this week stranded and banging my head against the wall at 97 pages with nothing else to say because I'd already said everything at least four times. Unfortunately most of the people who read and understand dissertations are usually bright enough to get it the first time, but sadly, such is the nature of scholarly output.

So, discouraged, in an effort to determine the next steps and hopefully give myself a little inspiration, this morning I looked up the dissertation formatting requirements for my program, when what to my wondering eyes did appear but a strictly enforced 1 and 1/4 inch margins rule. All this time I have been working with 1 inch margins all the way around, just as has been pounded into me since my undergraduate program. The cool part though is that when the paper was reformatted said required bigger margins all the way around, it gave me 12 extra pages without having to redundantly repeat myself again! Woofuckin'hoo! So I just tidied up the jagged bits, revised the table of contents and threw it against the wall in hopes that it will stick this time. Let's all cross our fingers or whateveritis that we do and hope that good enough is good enough this time.

Oh yeah, tomorrow I meet with the neuropsychologist for whom I've worked forever to discuss some potentially exciting options for postdoc. I think I need sleep now but feel so energized and excited that I don't think I'll be able to.

*stealing Natalia's Snoopydance!*

AAAAAACK!

Okay, just so you don't think I've fallen off the face of the earth, I haven't abandoned the blog, nor have I abandoned y'all (actually I stop by all my faves at least once a day, I just haven't been commenting much, if at all). You see, I sit for the Texas State Board of Examiners of Psychology's oral exam for full licensure tomorrow down in Austin. I'll be sitting for the neuropsychology specialization. It's pretty much the last hoop I have to jump through to practice on my own once my postdoc is over in December and I have been studying and reviewing like all hell to make sure I pass it the first time - even though there's really no way to study for it. Anxious doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling. The panic attacks aren't as bad as when I sat for the national exam, the Examination for Professional Practice in Psychology (EPPP) four years ago, because I have better coping skills now to handle them, but my anxiety is palpable and I'm really not feeling like very much fun or very good company. I have a lot to talk about, I'm just too nervous to do it right now, so just know that all's well and I'll have a really juicy and newsy post once I get tomorrow out of the way.

*smooches!*

Holidaze Over, Need Naps Nao Plz. Kthxbai.

moar funny pictures

Look. I maded a lolcat - but I eated it. This kitteh blongs to The Grandtwins. I like cats - as long as they're "over there." I have serious allergy to cats that leaves my eyes looking like the creature from The Blob. Anyway, I took this picture at a recent gathering at their house. Just moments before, kitteh was beating the hell outta that reindeer plushy so my caption seemed appropriate. I don't know if it will make it to I Can Has Cheezburger or not but it was fun to do anyway.

It's been a busy few days. Mostly I've been curled up by the fire reading books in my new leather chair (which matches the new leather group & tables that The Man & I purchased for Holiday - yes, apparently after 14 years our relationship has moved into the "one large purchase for everyone" phase. Next year what do you want to bet we buy a plasma TV "for both of us"?). At any rate, I read books (devoured, if I'm being honest) - real books of the non-academic type. Books that had nothing to do with brains or neuropsychology or academics and were not written at a postgraduate level, so I blasted through them in no time flat.

Bitter is the New Black

Little Black Book of Wine

Frommer's Dream Vacations

Windows on the World Complete Wine Course

I Am Woman, I Am Invincible...I Am Tired

The Complete Travel Detective Bible

Culture Shock! Scotland: A Survival Guide to Customs and Etiquette

...and my personal favorite, Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations. I really have a thing for Chef Bourdain. Not that he'd ever be in danger of crossing my path, what with me firmly grounded in Texas and him trotting the 'round globe, and all that business about personal and professional ethics, so the whole stalker thing is out. Still, I think he'd be fun to party with and it would be so refreshing to have a conversation with someone with a broad world view who actually had something interesting to say. Sigh.

Other than that, The Girl hosted a Monty Python-Athon the day after Xmas, so the house was descended upon by a dozen or so teenagers bearing Spam and coconut shells. It was fun and since there's a state-wide curfew for teenage drivers, they were all gone by midnight except the one or two girls spending the night.

Last night we went to a New Year's Eve/Suz's Birthday party at her new hubby's best friend's new home. They built it themselves over the last two years and it still isn't quite finished, but they've moved in. Funny, when I have people over I at least make sure to pick up the common areas of the house, run a quick dust cloth over things and clean the bathrooms, but even between cleanings every week my house doesn't get like that. Don't even get me started on the cocktail weenies in storebought barbeque sauce and the uber-sweet Doux sparkling wine thing toast at midnight and the egregious faux pas in the lack of blackeyed peas on the table - at a New Year's party in Texas - harrumph. The fireworks that I imported from Missouri after Grandpa's funeral were the highlight of our evening out. Looks like I'm going to need to visit Grandma sometime before the 4th of July for a refill.

As soon as we got home, we cracked open a bottle of Asti Spumante (not my favorite but I was out of Roederer and Asti is what The Man likes in sparkling varietals) and we each ate a bowl of blackeyed peas with salt jowl that I had put in the slow cooker in the afternoon.

Other than that, now that I've rabidly consumed most of the non-academic books I've accumulated in the last 2 years, I'm plowing into a few more books to help me prepare for my postdoc work:

The Paper Office talks at length about the ethical considerations of marketing, billing, doing business with third-party payers, et cetera, and it includes sample forms so I won't have to re-invent the wheel in creating my own forms when I'm fully licensed to hang out my shingle.

Successful Private Practice in Neuropsychology is pretty much just what the title says. It's a kind of how-to in keeping the practitioner's clinical, teaching and research interests in balance and still paying the bills while alone on the private practice mountaintop. So far a lot of what she says makes me think, "Well, duh..." but there are some good nuggets of wisdom in there from someone who's been there, so I'm not going to dismiss it entirely.

There's also Geriatric Neuropsychology, which I haven't delved into yet. Considering that my area of expertise is geriatric neuropsychological functioning, one wouldn't think that I would need a book like that, but in the interest of keeping myself educated about current methodology and research, that's exactly the kind of book I need. I'm looking forward to digging in this evening.

I don't know anything else right now other than I've got a big ol' pot of New Year's Day blackeyed peas in the slow cooker, a ham in the oven and cornbread with fried taters & onions just begging for me to cook them. I hope everyone has a healthy, happy and wildly prosperous 2008 filled with love, and that all of your fondest dreams are made real. That said, if you'll excuse me, I'm getting back to my books and my comfy leather chair by the fire.

Coming to the PHinisheD Line

Deep breath - heavy sigh... After a long string of very late nights, and much irritability while juggling family responsibilities, I just submitted the full draft of my dissertation to my committee. That's right kids - ALL FOUR CHAPTERS! All of 'em! I don't think I have the energy to go into all the gory details today, but suffice it to say that the bulk of the damn thing is finished. Edits are all that should remain at this point. Granted, said edits can go on for several months but I'm going to do my best to be sure to get them right the first time - and with a quickness. I really want to go back to work - at a real job - in a real shrink shop - playing with people's brains all day. If you know of anyone with a neuropsych postdoc position in the Dallas/Fort Worth or Waco areas, let me know. It's about the same driving distance for me either way.

PS
Is anybody besides me pissed that scrawny bologna-lipped Blake is still on Idol? Even The Man said, "WTF?!" Yeah, you knew I'd take time out for AI. I can't belieeeve America let Melinda go. She totally rocked my world every week. Jordin's cute and perky and all that shit in that amazonish mastiff or newfie pup kind of way, but Melinda - oh. mah. gawd. It almost makes me not want to watch the finals tonight.

Okay - I deserve a nap, so a nap I shall have!

4 Months From Now

Sigh. Here I sit trying to cobble together enough business every month to pay my bills. Altogether they aren't much really, but I thought seriously that I'd at least be making a living wage by this point and could contribute more to our family expenses. As it stands, I have what amounts to a handful of part time jobs, none of which pay worth a crap because they're kind of on an on-call basis, and the people I work for have pretty crappy reputations, so the referrals aren't coming in like they used to, so I'm not getting called as often. Granted part of the problem is that some of the referring agencies are at the end of their budget year, so they should pick up a little after September 1.

The good news though is that four months from today, my postdoc year (read: indentured servitude) will be over and I can start my independent professional life on my own terms. Sure I'll be slogging through the Medicare and insurance provider paperwork and trying to get established in my own practice with all the headaches and bills that entails, but at least I will be working under my own reputation and license, not someone else's. The better news is that I am already beginning to establish my own reputation and relationships with the major referrers in the region. They like my work, they like me personally and they have made it very clear that they want to know when and where I hang my shingle. It just can't be done until after the licensing paperwork is completed. I'll mail it December 4. Last year when I filed my provisional paperwork on the same date, it was approved December 31. Of course I didn't get the confirmation for a couple more weeks, but at least I got it.

The training for the giant corporate online university feels oddly like American Idol. There ended up being 378 trainees in my entry level class, then I was assigned to a group of 1o. Within the first week 4 of them dropped. Of the remaining 6 only 3 of us were in the same entry class so there was at least one other huge ass entry class somewhere. The training itself seems like a lot of busy work, but they have selected me to continue on to the next stage so that's good, I guess, except so far I'm not seeing a lot of attention being paid to academic rigor. After the next 2 weeks in developing syllabi et cetera (mind you I've already been through the first 2 weeks so in total this will be a full month of "training" i.e. working for free), the next stage will see me actually teaching a class with an instructor's instructor who can give me feedback on how I'm doing. I appreciate that. I will get paid the full rate for a doctoral level instructor for teaching that class, but that won't happen until the end of September. At least it's something to look forward to, but there's no guarantee that I'll even be offered a position until after the class wraps up in mid-to-late October.

Still no word on whether or not I'll be teaching at the community college again, and class starts in 3 weeks. The Psyc/Soci instructor/coordinator guy left in May, which is why the division chair asked me to apply for that job, which I did immediately - in May. Now the division chair is leaving so the two top leadership positions in that area are vacant, and nobody's saying a word. I'm debating whether to shoot a friendly email to the human resources coordinator to check on the status of my application.

The good news of the whole thing is that at least I'm 2/3 of the way through the postdoctoral purgatory year and that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Take one look around and you can see that nobody's starving around here. We still have a roof over our heads, the lights are still on, and I still have stuff I can sell on eBay. I can do anything for 4 months. However, if you know the money fairy, could you send it my way? Kthxbai.

The First Week of the Rest of My Life, or Funny, You Don't LOOK Like a Doctor

Man, have I been busy! While I was waiting for permissions guy, I remembered that I never did complete "Neuropsychology 101," and thereby complete the neuropsychology concentration certificate program I was taking concurrent with the PhD. The visions in my head showed me, a few years down the road, applying to take the neuropsychology board exams so I can put ABPN behind the PhD and officially be able to call myself a neuropsychologist. The rejection letter read something like this: "Dear Schmuck, We've noticed that you have extensive advanced coursework in neuropsychology in addition to impressive clinical work in practicum, internship, postdoctoral fellowship and specialized clinical training, but you never took Neuro 101. Sorry, but you can't be in our club. Thanks but no thanks, Neurodudes." Considering that boards like that are always looking for reasons to not let people in, I didn't want to take that risk. Besides, I was instrumental in getting the neuropsychology concentration off the ground and was the first president of the neuropsychology student association, so what kind of model was I presenting to those who came after me? Soooo, I asked the much-beloved professor about what to do and he was still willing to allow me to phone in my work. I didn't realize it would take 2 hours, but it's finished. I even got an A.

I got tired of waiting for "permissions guy" (since I was only asking for permission as a professional courtesy as the work is in the public domain), and sent my dissertation to the printer for the final copies. I've done business with these people since The Girl was a baby, back before I had my personal shopping business. When Arlene called to tell me the copies were ready to pick up, I asked her how much I owed, and she told me that she only charged me 7 cents per sheet, as if she had run them on the copier, not on the printing press, using the heavy 25% cotton bond archival quality paper. When I got there, she added the official original signature pages and lovingly shrink-wrapped each copy. She even had a shipping label ready for me. When we taped up the box, she said she had something else she wanted to go over with me so we went inside and she pointed out the shredder - then promptly stuck my invoice into it and refused to allow me to pay because she and her husband are so proud of how far I've come.

(A proud Arlene with the final copies and the UMI forms.)

I went straight to the post office to mail that bad boy off and get it out of my hair fo'evah and couldn't stop smiling while I was in line. Surely I looked like some kind of lunatic, but I didn't care. The clerk asked me how much I wanted to insure it for and I asked her how one places a value on 7 years of your life. It cost $40 to ship via express mail, but it was worth it to know that it would be delivered no later than noon PST Monday December 3, thus marking the officially official final and terminal no shit, for real, honest to GAWD end to my status as a student. I don't know about y'all, but I felt the gravitational pull of the earth shift as the weight of that thing slipped from my shoulders.

Meanwhile, The Man was celebrating his last day in the workforce. His coworkers were having a happy hour for him after work so The Girl and I went to a new restaurant in the town where Suz & I grew up. As soon as I got a taste of that first margarita swirl, I knew she & hubby needed to join us. Then, they made some seriously awesome guacamole at the table and I was hooked. Now that The Girl is fully licensed to drive, I could have two margaritas because I didn't have to worry about driving home.

So Saturday, we traversed to a town about 100 miles away for All-Region Band tryouts - she on the bus, me in my car so I could escape & get lunch. I was recruited to be room monitor for the clarinet room and was thrilled beyond belief that I didn't have to judge flutes this year. I wasn't prepared for the ensuing boredom though. To keep myself entertained, I was making faces, chair dancing, checking email & playing Bejeweled on my iPhone - anything to stay awake. No, the kids couldn't see me - I was sitting behind them. Over in the flute room, it may come as no surprise that The Girl was kicking ass and taking names. She made 5th chair Symphonic band, which means that she gets to advance to All-Area auditions next month. All four girls ahead of her are seniors so look out next year. I am so proud of my Girl. She never ceases to amaze me.

Sunday found me beginning the purging process in my office. I began with the closet from hell, which really looks like an annex of Staples more than anything else. I took everything out

and put it in the middle of the room, which was already pretty crowded.
I've sifted through every piece of paper from 7 years in gradual school, the soap business and every other aspect of my life. In addition to the 3 bins I've already done and the 1 left for me to go, The Man is finally going through all of his mother's papers now that he has time. She was a professional patient so we have boxes of her "sensitive medical information" dating back to 1976 that need to be shredded. It's beginning to sound a lot like Enron around here with all the shredding.

Monday I met with a colleague of mine from school to discuss a business venture that ties her internship, my postdoc and our future private practice all up into one tidy package - with lovely ribbons and bows. More as things develop, but let's just say the prospect is very exciting and that I'll be living one of those, "I made ridiculous amounts money working part time from home doing what I love," infomercials. Later in the day, I found out that the final copies of my dissertation landed at the school about the time we began our meeting. The university officially can't ask me to do Another. Fucking. Thing. Ever.

Tuesday morning found me finishing up the paperwork for the provisional license. I was also doing more sifting and shredding of paper. Tuesday evening we went to The Grandtwins' Xmas pageant at school. The contemporary praise music feel of the thing really didn't do it for me. At. All. The kids were cute though and they were proud of their performance, which was, thankfully, short.

Wednesday Mom & I went furniture shopping - finally. We've only been trying to go since I painted the living room. We When I got home and told The Man what & where I'd found what I want and when we have an appointment to go see the salesperson, he asked, "Do I have to go? Just go get what you want." Which led to a rather heated conversation (on my end) about how it was my understanding that my job was just to go narrow it down to a couple of options then we would decide together and that if I had known he was just going to tell me to get whatever, I could have handled it right then and there instead of having to make 2 trips to a store that's 80 miles away. Needless to say, he will be joining me at 10am tomorrow to select from the finalists.

Yesterday, The Man & I went to the new office of the practice where I served my internship to pick up a little cabinet and the neatest little fold-out table that I used for testing. When it's folded up, it looks like a little cabinet, but it has a secret. It was the perfect table for the micro-space we had in that office. I don't think anyone has dusted either of them since I left, even though it looked as if everyone and their dog were using them. When I tried to slide out the little table though, one of the hinges was bent and the support wouldn't slide out. Pissed me off, but The Man helped me bend it back so that I can slide it out. I'm going to leave it out for awhile & maybe it will stick. If it doesn't I'll just replace the hinge later. Still, what the fuck is wrong with people that they tear stuff up then don't offer to fix or replace what they've damaged?

Today I'll finalize the shredding and sifting in my office, list that Treo on eBay and make some soap. It's nice to have less clutter in my space.

After all that, I have to start preparations for a midwinter party we're having next Saturday. There's plenty of cooking and baking and cleaning and shining of stuff to be done, but I've still not gotten over the feeling that there's no more academic writing to be done. How long does it take for that go to away?

That's all I know right now. Gotta scoot - there's more shredding yet to do.

Love,
Me, Ph.D.