Today, instead of holding class during a short holiday week, the professor instead scheduled individual meetings with us throughout the day. Since my office is not too far from his, I scheduled mine for this morning. The meeting was to discuss the conference paper I’ve been working on. It was a relief to meet with
When you’re taking a graduate-level course, working a full-time job and a part-time one, spending time with family and friends and still trying to be an attentive mom and read books for fun once in a while…something has got to give. And blogging is the natural thing to give up. I think about it a
Steve Rogers waking up in post-WWII America after being frozen in ice for 50 years has a lot in common with a 32-year-old woman going to graduate school after being away from the classroom for 12 years. I thought about this as I sat in class taking notes quite different from the ones my classmates were.
I’m not a mom who plays. I will swing on the swingset at the park, or sit down in the living room with a board game. But I’m not running around the playground, swinging across the monkey bars, or taking a ball and glove to play some catch. I will build with LEGOs, but I’m not
Let’s make one thing clear. My age does not bother me. It never has. I don’t fear getting older, because that’s what is supposed to happen. I am 32 years old. Occasionally I pass for younger. Occasionally I feel younger. Other times, I feel older. Like the first day of class. I felt old. Realistically, the