Friday, August 25, 2006

No time to blog Dr. Jones…

For the past few weeks I have been working two full time jobs. I teach eight until three and then again five to eleven three days a week. This coming week is my last week at the puppy mill. I’ve had some good interactions there with staff who are sorry to see me go and many of my current students who were planning on taking me for the next tier of composition classes, or even Ethics, have expressed their sadness at my departure. One of them said, “Man, it seems like all the good teachers are leaving.” It’s a nice sentiment to hear. I don’t want to burn bridges and may even teach there next summer. Probably not actually, I’ll need a rest.

I’m still not sure what my comfort level is going to be about writing about my job(s) and life now that I am more in the public eye, but I would like to say that even with the commute I haven’t been this fulfilled in my work life in a very long time; I’d say six years to be precise. I didn’t want to leave my Truman job and I didn’t know at the time that I didn’t have to. It broke my heart to leave full time teaching like that and discover some of the horrors of urban adjuncting: no matter how much one works and is of service to institutions, it is impossible to make a living at it. Oh well, if I hadn’t left Truman I wouldn’t have the life that I have now, and it is a very good life.

I get up now every morning at five. I shower and walk the dog to be out the door by six. I travel partially by interstate and partially by rural, winding highways to my school. Halfway there I pick up another teacher and we alternate driving that leg to save on gas and sanity. We see all kinds of wildlife on the trip. This week I saw a fox and had a large hawk fly alongside the car for a hundred yards; it was so big I thought it was an owl at first. I’ve had to stop the car and honk at deer to get them out of the middle of the road. I think my deer count is currently at eight. My cow count is in the hundreds. It’s interesting to note the variety in breeds as heirloom “crops” becoming increasingly the stock-and-trade for the small farmer; it reminds me of D’s parents.

So it’s Friday and tomorrow is Jes’ thirty-first birthday. I got home from school at five. I went immediately to sleep and woke up at ten. I’ll probably try for another four to five hours and then get on with birthday prep. The wheel keeps turning.


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