Ten weeks of continuous miracle-working really takes it out of you. But it’s over. As of yesterday, I am no longer in an impossible teaching position. And it feels really good.

I have learned a lot this quarter. I think my students may have learned something, too. Maybe. It’s hard to tell when they’re being actively encouraged not to recognize it, but I think some of it got past the “too cool for this” facade and into their brains. I know that I kept at least one person from quitting, and I which is really all that I could ask.

This was not the most stellar miracle that I’ve ever worked, but I was up against a lot, and I am happy with what I managed to accomplish. The people that hired me have begun to realize just how much they asked, and I think that they will also be happy with the results.

And I am really ready to take off the superhero costume. Spandex is so not flattering.

All of this to say that there is now a chance that I will come back to the world of the living and knitting and blogging. That is, if catching up on writing my thesis draft (I want it done this month) and planning a syllabus for next quarter (eep!) don’t swallow me up before I manage to come up for air. But they shouldn’t. Both processes are well in hand, though there’s still a lot of work to be done. Right now, I am ready to spend an evening realizing that my adrenaline levels can now return to a reasonable level, and that there is nothing more that I need to do right now.

What is Success?

To laugh often and much;

To win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;

To earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;

To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others;

To leave the world a bit better, whether by
a healthy child, a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;

To know even one life has breathed
easier because you have lived;

This is to have succeeded.

Ralph Waldo Emerson*

And, by that definition, I have. Now, I’m going to go stare at a wall for a while…

Back soon with more knitting content.

*I vaguely remember reading somewhere that this poem is misattributed to Emerson, but for now, I’m just going with it.