Day 249: Sleepless in Chicago

Damn, I’m tired. Had to pull an all-nighter to catch up on writing, grading and applications. Am exhausted. Will go to the Überstein Hofbräuhaus with a friend later tonight to unwind. Yes, that’s right! Überstein. Seems appropriate: I’m über-tired and definitely have an itch for stress-escapism by getting über-drunk (which, considering the amount of work that needs to get done tomorrow, is not a possbility).

Be that as it may, contrary to what Robert Frost may claim, fall (not spring) seems to be the mischief in me: there is a job opening at Regent University. Do you think I should apply? There certainly is lots of “über” at that place (not the good kind, though). I wonder if I can put a notion in their heads. But, über-Pat probably, “moves in darkness as it seems to me // Not of woods only and the shade of trees. // He will not go behind his father’s saying…”




  1. re: the drunk thing, that’s absolutely normal. I used to drink constantly, probably on a daily basis, towards the end of my PhD. I constantly felt under pressure, with no relief in sight (you know that the pressure is only going to stop once you’ve submitted your thesis; alternatively, you can drop out which of course wasn’t an option for this hard-working German).

    So, keep drinking!

    (I haven’t touched alcohol, apart from the very occasional glass of cider – i.e. once a month or something – since October 06).

  2. He, he. That’s some good advice, if I ever heard any.

    Frankly, though, this has been the first time that I’ve gone out for drinks in a LONG time. I usually don’t have time for it and even on the weekends I sit in front of my computer until 2 a.m.. I remember, I went out by myself out of desperation a few weeks ago (out of desperation–just to a bar around the corner, b/c it was Friday night and I could hear people having fun while I was writing) and sat there not knowing what to do. I kept thinking about my work, got nervous and left after one drink to continue writing. You’re completely right–there is constant pressure with no relief in sight. Yet, strangely it is not the kind of pressure one completely loathes–after all, the work we like to complain about so much essentially amounts to creating one’s brain child and that does feel great (plus it might secure you a job)–so there is something shockingly masochistic about one’s willingness to accept the complete destruction of one’s social life.

    But one thing remains true: beer is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

  3. Überstein as in: Einstein meets Übermensch?

    Am suddenly yearning for the long gone days when I sat at home writing my MA thesis. As sad it it may seem (on the surface) to be sitting at home while people are having fun, i do also recall the sense of independence that accompanied it.

    The luxurious feeling of retiring from the other people’s turmoils and devote oneself to nothing else but a few precious thoughts, that maybe three people you know can appreciate (if you’re lucky – although you are in a better position, with Cabbage and the MLG in reach).

  4. No, Überstein as in übergrosser Bierstein, I would say (if they actually put any thought into the name, that is).

    I agree. There is something strangely attractive about a life of isolation for the sake of intellectual production. Isn’t it funny, though, that the process of trying to produce a work of social critique tends to increasingly alienate you from the very society and its cultural practices you are trying to describe? In these moments I’m glad to be a marxist: we thrive on the analysis of contradictions. 🙂

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