My paper was rejected.

Outright.

With no peer review.

Honestly, I thought dealing with romantic rejection would have been harder than this, but I’m having second thoughts. You get over it eventually, but until then I’ll be suffering yet another painfully acute episode of Imposter Syndrome, sulking, pouting, and feeling dejected. It’s childish but it’s how I feel.

However much the fact that science seems to be populated with myriad high-flying intellectuals with little room for green up-and-comers like me is actually not a fact at all, that doesn’t help me stop believing it. For all the transparency, we still haven’t achieved that level of meritocracy that will create an intellectual utopia in which all research, regardless of rigour, will be taken for the good things it offers the world.

Ah. Well.

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