I've dived (dove?) into the deep end of academia, and I'm finding myself not sinking, though sometimes just barely treading water. This semester, in all its delights brings article submissions, a co-authored publication, research, and, finally, the job market. Job hunting is thrilling and exciting, and I feel poised to begin my career, for real.
I also find myself in the unenviable position of having to explain to people how the academic job market works. The well-meaning questions like where do you want to go? where will you end up? why not apply to X place? are not that frustrating, but reveal how weird and strange and often esoteric the life I've chosen is to the outside eye. It's not that I wouldn't love to choose a place and apply for it, but with my jobs list growing ever longer, I invest enough energy to get excited enough about each position to convey that I really do want to work at X University. Then, when the application has been emailed, Interfolio-ed, or otherwise submitted, I forget they exist.
You see, if I stayed too excited about any one job and then never heard back, it would be crushing. So by divesting the interest and excitement I generated to apply, I (hopefully) will only experience mild disappointment if I never hear back or they send me the thanks-but-no-thanks message. I'll save my excitement and longing for when I get bumped into the later phases of interviewing and campus visits.
Anyway, so my friends are currently delighted whenever I pop up (which hasn't been very often), and I catch a bit of space to breathe, but I have actually been enjoying feeling purposeful every day. Every day I submit more applications and do more scholarly work, and it feels awesome (though still daunting), and I feel more secure in knowing that this is what I want to do, gluten-free bakery dreams aside.
With all this energy comes an edge of sadness. I was in Megan's barre3 class the other day, and it struck me: there really is so much I'll be leaving behind, be it the easy camaraderie with my best friends, friends who have been with me for so long now, to my inspiring running group, to my barre3 buddies. It made me tear up a tiny bit as I tried to focus on my core, but this too is a feeling I have to compartmentalize for now. There will be joy and sadness in my future, but that's something for future-Jenn to worry about. Meanwhile, I'll savor the moments I'm able to have with these amazing members of my community when I get the chance.
And now, back to it...