Remember in grade school when we would get out early for, say, teachers’ meetings? I used to love those days since I wouldn’t tell my mom that I had a shortened day and I’d just go hang out with friends after school. Yes, my mom was pretty strict, but she loosened up as I got older.
Today is a shortened day for me at work. I’m meeting with a counselor at CSUF to get her signature for some classes I plan to take in the fall. Classes that will get me closer to getting my master’s. I have renewed hope that I could be a strong candidate since the department vice chair told me he’d help with my application. He told me that I have the skills to write effectively. If I didn’t get confirmation of my writing and analytical skills, I don’t think I would’ve thought to pursue my M.A.
You may be thinking, “What will you do with a master’s and Ph.D in English? Teach?” The answer to that is kind of gray. I want to do research and write essays, articles, excerpts in books, etc. But in order to do that, I need to get a teaching position at a university.
Let me tell you: I can’t teach for shit. I write better than I could explain. I never used to be this way. I’ll explain why in another post.
My body aches. Getting your ass kicked in jiu jitsu will do that to you.
Back to work.