Yesterday morning I cried

on the way to work when I saw a fellow professor walking down Main with his little daughter in a stroller.  The scene was so simple and beautiful.  It evoked a longing in me that I'd like to be able to dispassionately and nonchalantly set aside.  Yesterday morning, a deep violet streak brought tears to my eyes.

A voice said that it would be a long while before I'd be able to enjoy a moment like that.  It said that it was far off.  Unattainable, even.  What makes you think you can have that?  It's not yours and it's not for you.

It's not necessarily having a child that I feel is unattainable.  It's the idea of the ability to create a life where I will be able to unstressfully enjoy having a child that seems unattainable.  A life where I will be able to take a walk with my child on a crisp autumn morning and not worry about how it's all going to come together. A life that includes a home of our own, permanent jobs, financial security, affordable child care, a welcoming place with people who speak our language.

There are bright spots, for sure.  They include my bright-eyed students who are excited that I'm teaching Humanities next semester. They include the morning moment my husband hits snooze and wraps his arm around me because we're both awake but want to enjoy those few precious moments before we have to get out of bed.  They include the fact that my husband was offered a teaching position at a nearby university.  I should be content.

But my days still feel like contingencies.  I have barely begun to apply for jobs.  And the ones I've seen so far weigh me down with my woeful unqualification and unsuitability for them.  I'm paralyzed by the very idea of applying for them.  What makes you think you can have that?  It's not yours and it's not for you.  Do I care about research and publication plans and book proposals and my future scholarly trajectory and profile?  I do not.  How can an academic not care about those things?  Maybe I'm not an academic.  I'm an overeducated, undermotivated person who gets by, ending up in places I didn't plan to be.  It's not altogether a bad thing to end up in places you didn't plan to be.  In many ways, I'm quite happy that I've ended up in places I didn't plan to be.  But I've never had it all together and I don't know why I can't rid myself of the need to.