You invested lots of time (and money) in your Egyptology degree. You have every right to be proud of this accomplishment, but it’s an expensive hobby, reading inscriptions for your friends while on museum trips.
You finished school and managed to secure actual employment in Egyptology. This puts you ahead of most of your peers, even if it only means you get to spend the rest of your life writing articles about obscure grammar for the same dozen people to read and argue about.
During graduate school, you managed to pick the right advisors and the right specialty and land a position in a prominent museum or research institution. In time, your employer grants you a dig concession, and you hire your own minions to carry your trowels and Munsell scale on your Egyptian tour.
After several decades of near misses, you manage to find something nobody’s found before, and are the first person to get it published. Congratulations, you’re a footnote for future dissertations.
Indiana Jones is asking you to check out his latest site instead, because he knows you’ll be better at interpreting what you find. Egyptology schools name scholarships after you.