At a time when academe is awash with doom and gloom, it feels wrong to be so happy. And yet I am. Why?
My classes are going well, with a dearth of deadwood and lots of fun discussion of literature, and I'm even excited about reading the papers my students are producing (although I have to wonder what madness inspired me to require all of my classes to submit papers in the same week).
My committee work is challenging, but we're all working together well to achieve some very specific and important tasks that will have an impact on the campus for a long time to come.
My research projects are progressing nicely and sparking ideas for new avenues of research that will lead into some really exciting places.
And best of all, I'm getting lots of happy grandma time with a sweet little girl who loves to play with words.
So while I'm aware that the future looks gloomy for higher education as a whole as well as for my particular discipline, I can't help feeling happy and hopeful. (But I'd better not say it too loud lest anvils start falling from the sky.)