Holidays are strange times when you are nearly unemployed. I¡¯m currently in the midst of a peaceful family festive season: spending quality time with the kids, visiting relatives, going on outings and eating too much. It¡¯s all very pleasant and relaxing, but I can¡¯t seem to shake the recurring feeling of panic at the back of my mind. My research project is nearly completed, my contract runs out in mid-January and I receive my final pay cheque at the end of that month. After that, bar the odd bit of teaching and freelance writing, I won¡¯t be bringing in a significant income.

Of course, as I¡¯ve documented in previous columns, I have done plenty to try to prepare the ground for further employment. I have applied for jobs and am awaiting news on whether I have been shortlisted for one of them. I have had a lot of meetings with potential research partners and have started to put together some outlines for possible grant applications. I¡¯m trying to negotiate an honorary position at a university that will give me a berth when my current contract finishes. I am satisfied that I haven¡¯t taken my situation lying down and that in the new year I will be back out there hustling with (hopefully) renewed vigour.

However, the fact remains that none of this work has thus far paid off and if I don¡¯t get the permanent job I¡¯ve applied for, which is a very likely possibility, none of the research grants I intend to apply for will pay out for several months even in the best-case scenario. My probable fate is several months of unemployment or underemployment.

Usually I keep the resulting anxiety in check by burying myself in activity. In the holiday season though, this option isn¡¯t available. Without being able to actively do something about my situation, I have no alternative but to reflect on it. As the holiday continues, my suppressed panic is rising as I feel impotent and frustrated. Sometimes the kids distract me, but often they don¡¯t as I try to ignore the siren call of my laptop.

51³Ô¹Ï

Of course this is part of the reason why temporary research contracts are not a good idea: they never allow you to rest. Whether or not a contract includes holiday time, the ever-present possibility of unemployment means you can never entirely ¡°clock off¡±.

I¡¯m well aware that academia in general is not a good profession for those who value downtime. Even if you have a permanent contract, the pressure to raise money, teach, administrate and research never stops. Over and above all that, academics face a constant flood of new information that they have to try to stay on top of if they want to remain experts in their fields of study. We all face a constant torrent of papers and books and there never seems to be enough time to read them all. For many of us, holidays are a time to catch up on reading and to try to do some actual thinking. To misquote Gordon Gekko: ¡°Knowledge never sleeps, pal.¡±

51³Ô¹Ï

The lack of true downtime is a price that academics must pay for the privilege of being able to pursue their own interests. There are many jobs that you don¡¯t have to take home with you, but plenty of them are stressful, uninteresting or alienating. So I don¡¯t moan about the ¡°always on¡± life of the academic, but I do feel that the temporary academic is burdened with further worries that make the difficulties of switching off even harder to handle.

I¡¯m going to try to see this holiday period as a time to gird my proverbial loins for the fight ahead. I have a tough few months ¨C at least ¨C to come and I will have to struggle to keep my career going and my morale up. This is the calm before the storm and even as I enjoy the quiet, I await with apprehension the approaching tempest.