There remain only two scheduled items on my to-do list before the end of the year: 1) class notes for my guest lecture next week (I've got a rough outline worked up. I should be able to knock that off today as well, or by tomorrow mid-day in any case, since I've got to quit by 3:00 today.); and 2) one more conference abstract due December 15.
I'm still home at the moment, since I needed internet. I'll be heading to my office soon.
I've got 6 more potential job postings to apply for with January deadlines. Otherwise, I'll be working on my book manuscript. I'm hoping to have the middle two sections (out of four) completed by the end of February, with the outside sections completed by June. I don't have a contract yet, but I'm pretty confident on that count.
I also haven't heard official work from the [Field 1/subfield 2] journal regarding my article submission, but I hope to hear by the end of the week. It would be good to add that to my CV, but I'm not holding my breath. There's yet much more in me to send out; not too worried about any single item.
The other items remaining on my to-do list (without deadlines) include: finally starting data collection on my [Longitudinal Project]; and finding a literary agent for my children's books and the memoir about my father. These will be done by the end of the year.
I commit this one more season to applying for faculty posts. I can not say what this year will bring. Fruit, in any case. I'm sure of that. I simply don't know of what sort. This time next year, will I be a newly minted junior faculty member? Will I have a post-doc? Will I still be in my office next to the Trader Joe's, typing away on my projects, writing my books and articles, analyzing my data, updating and expanding my websites?
Will the Rocket Scientist "find her legs" and get settled into work at Rocket Central? Last evening she said:
Maybe we should just save our money and move to Mexico or the Czech Republic.No, she's not ready to disappear (nor for that matter am I, quite). But she has yet to feel fully involved at her new job. It's a bigger pond, and she's a smaller fish. And lately I've just been a fish without water, gasping the air which I can not breath, wanting lungs, and feet to move about. I'm tired of flopping. I realize at least half of circumstance is self-induced. I've got much to think about.
Excuse me? Be careful what you wish for!