The university I teach at is my alma mater. I haunted their job postings for a time and pounced as soon as they listed a search for adjunct faculty in the department I now teach in.
The chance to return to my old stomping grounds excited me. I thought, even, before they told me I'd only get two courses and wouldn't be needed for the spring semester, that it might even entail a move to the town that I had become attached to in four years.
I realize now my attachment was not to the town, or even the university in particular--it was to a handful of people--some of whom the connection with has grown tenuous--and to the comfort of being in a department where I knew almost everybody. I don't actively dislike the job now, or the department, or the campus for that matter. But I'm no longer so infatuated with it all.
I think this job is good for me, giving me the closure I need to move on. I couldn't/didn't move on after my bachelor's, and after my master's, I gazed wistfully back. I'm back now, and the hallways aren't so high, the atmosphere no longer so glossy. I think I grew up in the intervening time.
My future's ahead, and I'm planning on doing what I need to blast my potential wide open. This involves ogling of graduate programs and dreading the math component of the GRE and dreaming of the possibilities a new degree will bring in terms of career and knowledge gained and new experiences.
Now playing: Hot Water Music - Another Way