My feet are swollen.
I have not eaten the whole day.
I am thirsty for whisky.
It is after the 100th email of students giving you any reason under the sun why they cannot be part of the class that you begin to wonder: Was this the right move?
My dad has been in tertiary education for 15 or so years and I have been very critical of his lifestyle. Many mornings and nights we have argued over his way of being, how he prioritizes some things, and things in that accord. But after experiencing everything first hand now, I need to say to him (as I did)
I am sorry, I was wrong.
After trying my best, I focus on the problem students, something I have argued with him countless times. My focus is not on the students who want to be there.
I find it hard to focus on the work whilst students work on their phones or laugh in the back, again, to the detriment of those who want to be there.
I make questions tough to catch those who did not come to class, again, focusing on those that do not want to be there.
Am I becoming my dad?
That aside, I am wondering if I will survive academic life. I am teaching a new course, I am still developing the coursework from scratch. I need to do research and read, I need to do so many things. All the while my social life is non-existent except for finding the love of my life, . My golf is almost dead in the water and the writing is merely the 1000 or so words I write on Hive. I never read fiction because reading has become hard; I read so much during the day.
I question if all this is worth it?
Does your health need to be jeopardized for your work?
But this relies on the idea that I am doing all of this "for work".
I am not doing any of this for "work" (i.e., money).
My own research is flourishing. My academic writing is growing. My field is growing and I am on the brink of publishing the first works in that field. Will this be revolutionary? Everyone hopes that of their work. I am only human. It will probably not amount to anything but paperweight, but the thing is I did this work. I took the time and effort to produce it. Could someone else do it? No. Would someone else want to do it? That is still something I am figuring out. Silence can mean two things: a new field or one that people purposefully look over.
I hope that my survival in academic life will be based on two things: survival physically (emotionally and bodily) and academically (my work being published and accepted).
But this is a worry for the future.
All I know is that sitting for hours on end is not good. And this is what is happening at the moment.
My feet are swollen; and I am craving whisky.
Thank you for reading my mumbling. It is so strange how we find ourselves in situations we would not have dreamed about.
Happy writing and be safe.
All of the writing is my own, and the photographs are also my own, taken with my iPhone.