I am getting antsy, professionally and personally. I am in a rut on both accounts and this should be understood quite broadly. The advantage of this blog is that absolutely no one is reading it aside from me, perhaps not even my collaborator at this point, so I feel a certain freedom here that I lack elsewhere.
I no longer have the fire of teaching, part of this is a consequence of the lack of variation. I teach the same three classes over and over again, one class I teach two sections every semester, and it is exhausting to see the same errors over and over again. I often simply don't care enough to prep because I can do the lectures in my sleep now. I have difficulty looking at twenty-five or thirty more years of this, nor do I relish the thought of more pointless meetings.
I want out of southern California, weather aside there is little else to commend the place. At some point one has to decide for whom one is living, right? Is the job more important than quality of life? This is more than an academic question (haha!) for me. I am the job, in both the best and worst readings of that phrase. I have made some terrible personal decisions based on the assumption that I am the job, that I have worked for years to be the job, and that has led me to break off relationships or allow others to wither on the vine (in retrospect). What has this yielded me thus far? Long hours, two professor of the year nominations, no spouse and no children. And perhaps I am losing that love of the job as well. Is that a reasonable yield?
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