Once again thoughts of leaving the city have been swirling in my head for the last few nights. Maybe it’s just the beginning of the semester anxiety; in fact, I have no doubt that all this is just a spell. I’ve been here for only 6 months and I find myself planning to move away from here; of course, I wouldn’t mind retiring in this city because it is lovely in lots of ways, but already I’ve been itching to break free.
I whine that this city is too small, and have even grown impatient to riding public trans. In general I wait for so many things, like today I thought, gee, I wonder at one point in my life when I’ll be able to afford a washer and dryer machine? Or Jonathan Adler dinner plates? It seems so far away.
In the end, I wonder if I can even commit to 6 more years of school – and then what? I feel like variations of these type of questions – what next? what now? -- will haunt me for years to come, and then how does one deal with it?
Maybe the reasons why I can’t see myself continuing or even teaching is an indication that I need to acknowledge my limitations and not be afraid of Big Other(s).
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