Really, it’s always crunch time in grad school, it seems. But crunch time has moved full force into my mouth.

My whole head hurts.

This happened a few weeks ago, when a dull, throbbing pain grew worse and more widespread, emanating from my lower jaw up through my face and into my skull, and I thought it was just a sign of having neglected a cavity my dentist was worried about for far too long. But then the pain subsided for a while and, hating dentists, I never called to make a follow-up appointment.

The pain, she is back. But the fact that its return coincides with a new nocturnal phenomenon confirms my suspicion that the real culprit is the fact that I’m clenching my jaw during the few fitful hours of what passes for sleep each night. This time around, I take a break each night from grinding my teeth to wake up sometime before dawn and enjoy the fact that I am absolutely drenched in sweat.

Grody, I know. Like I have time to do extra loads of laundry on top of salvaging bollocksed research, writing hopeless chapters of literature review, and keeping my fingers in too many political pies that I consider “investments in the future.”

It ain’t insufficient air conditioning. It ain’t too many blankets. Four nights in a week and the feeling that I’ve been whacked in the face with a cricket bat really point to the fact that I’m steadily losing my mind.

I can’t wait for the night terrors to come.



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