I was just sitting here reading the google search results for "take me anywhere, internet" when I glanced to the right and noticed the wrecking ball outside my window, slowly beginning its swing right toward my house.*
Reader, I am no longer interested in teaching. That's right: the thing that I was certain I would do for the rest of my career no longer inerests me. I have no idea how this happened or why. The most cogent thing I can say about it is that I've lost my ability to say the word "cogent" without a pang of regret that I don't really mean it. Or anything. When I tell my students that language can change their lives, that writing gives them freedom, I no longer believe it.
I am not saying that from an objective standpoint, I am correct. The opposite is almost certainly true: my students can benefit from competent writing instruction, and English classes are a right and practical use for taxpayers' dollars. The rub is that I don't want to deliver anymore.
To review: 22-26 BC Paper mortgage underwriter; 26-30 small business/retail relationship lender; 30-37 English professor - mostly ESL and developmental, grad student.
If you look at the pattern, you'll realize that I am a bit late - usually the wrecking ball tears my whole house down once every four years, at which time I something to do that appeals to some other, probably neglected district of my brain. It has now been seven.
What should I do? I find myself wanting to be a cocktail waittress, or a subway train operator, or a postal worker.*** The overwhelming urge I have is to do physical work - preferably work where I can punch a clock every day, go home and forget all about it. **
I figure I've got about 45 seconds until my house is knocked down to dust, at which point some kind of decision must be made.
*it's a metaphor. And no, I don't give a damn about those anymore, either.
** I might make ane excellent secretary, too. Hiring, Lola? Pax?
*** Truth be told, all I really want to do anymore is climb. I have no idea how this happened. A year ago, I was afraid of heights and I could barely cross the street without looking nine ways. I have changed. Obviously.