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Every Day Is A Winding Road



The last couple of weeks have turned out to be more action packed than usual. Usual for the beginning of the academic year, that is. Ironically I've been writing more in my hide-away journal, which is the one I write in when I need to work something out in my head (usually emotionally), as well as creative elements for work. Ah, yes, work.


It turns out that many of my colleagues and co-workers know how much work that I do, have noticed the quality of said work, and my lack of full-time employment. They're increasing the number of times that they mention that it's a shame that I'm not a full-timer anywhere yet. Not that there's a position opening up at my campus any time soon. But there is one at another campus about 40 miles away that I have put my name in for. Don't know what'll come of it, but evidently many people are convinced that it's my turn, wherever it may be. I'm coming to find out that in the last 15 or so years, if an adjunct has been at that status for 5-7 years, they tend to easily find a full-time, tenure-track position at a local campus. Of course, in those 5-7 years you're trying to scrape as many adjunct and other contingent faculty positions together as possible in order to achieve something close to full-time pay. Forgetting, of course, the wear and tear, the gas, and the time that you spend in and on your car. For the record, I'm starting my 7th year as an adjunct in the community college system.


I've also noticed that I'm getting grumpy. Oh, not all the time, and not with any consistency. I mean, I still have a roof over my head, I still have an incredible view from said place to live. Maybe it has to do with some of the dates that I've been on recently. Or that I haven't heard from a couple of people who seem to be avoiding my calls and/or texts. Or that the Giants have finally caught up to the injuries that they've had and won't likely even make the playoffs, never mind repeat as World Series Champions.


Nah. I think I'm getting grumpy because of the damned white flies all over my plants. Little *bleeeeeeeeeeep* just keep on coming, no matter how regularly I spray. Yes, malathion works, but if you skip a session, the flies just come back. And lay a ton of eggs. Little *bleepity bleepity bleep bleep bleep bleep* have got to be stopped!


Oooh...the tomatoes are ripening...and the basil is ready for harvest. And the sage plant is rivaling the rosemary for biggest bush on the patio....ok, I'm feeling less grumpy now. A bit peckish, as the Brits say (or was it just that in the Cheese Shop?), but less grumpy.


Aaaaah...and a pretty sunset to close out this late summer evening. Yep, things are looking up again. :)


(For the record, I am not a Sheryl Crow fan in the least--a bit too twangy for me--but this song somehow hits the heart routinely. Maybe because I really am just getting a little bit closer to my various goals every day...it's just that, at times, it never quite seems like it. Meh, enough grousing for the evening.)


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Yeah, I know what you mean about flies. Every year in summer I open the front window and they're queueing up outside to be let in. I ought to charge admission.

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I'm reminded of an old Dave Allen joke. It's a bit politically incorrect, but what the hey...


An englishman, an arab, and a jew are sat on a bus. A fly buzzes around the englishman and he shoos it away muttering about the standard of cleanliness on middle eastern public transport. The fly heads over to the arab. He watches it intently, then grabs the thing, chewing on it and enjoying the extra protein. Another fly buzzes around the jew. He watches it intently, then grabs the thing before turning to the arab and asking "You want to buy a fly?"

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