All In

I'm wondering what became of my office while I was gone. Books I once owned (and used virtually every semester) have disappeared. I do not suspect theft. I suspect I loaned them out, for reasons that now escape me, and failed to get them back.

Returning to work has been harder than I imagined it would be. I knew I'd be tired, but I didn't anticipate the kind of mental energy that goes along with having the world slightly out of kilter. I'm just starting to remember what it feels like when you have a schedule in your head and everything takes more effort than you'd planned, so the schedule has to be revised. And then revised again. And then again.

But in spite of these moments of disorientation, it looks like I'm all in. I was back in my office by 8:30 this morning although, strictly speaking, I didn't have to be. Already I've been planning programming for the Women's Center, identifying missing books, shelving the stuff I accumulated during my sabbatical, working out class plans for the next few days. I've been talking to people about curriculum changes that need to happen in the fall. Forget easing back into the groove. This is how I operate: I'm here or I'm not.

Small wonder, perhaps, that I've decided against applying for a job in the Northeast. I just don't have the energy to take on one more thing, even if that thing holds the promise of more prestige, more money, greater focus. I love the West, but I know it makes no sense for all people who love the West to live and teach here. (Honestly, who better to teach New Englanders about life on the wide side of the Mississippi?) I also know I can't go into an application process feeling tepid about a major life decision. Either I'm ready to move, should I get the chance, or I'm staying put. I'm here or I'm not.

And for the moment, I'm here. Looking forward to seeing students tomorrow. To working in my back yard as the weather warms up. To planning the fall schedule, and to spending another hot summer at the pool with my kids. I know how my life works here, even when things are slightly askew, and I like what I know of this place. It's hard to imagine why I'd ever want to leave.