I woke up this morning with an epiphany-- I'm going to go for my PhD. Seven months of limbo, of scratching my nails against chalkboards about jobs, and not wholeheartedly enjoying what I'm doing have taught me a lesson-- I must follow my dreams, now or never. And where are my dreams?
I want to be free to travel, read, write and produce art. The structure of the 9-5 doesn't allow me to do this. Working full-time is draining. The academia is something I'm used to. I know how to go to the library, I ravenously pour through books, in and out of school, I write everyday, and that's what makes me happy. Teaching has been fruitful, but the K-12 level hasn't given me the kick I need. I want to be able to teach all levels, from the university down.
This may be a brush of idealism, but I'd rather call it hope. I feel energized again because I see that this is not the end all, be all of my life. There are dreams to pursue, places to love. I'm happy.