Let's get on with this

Was it malaise? A dark tea-time of the soul?

I had slumped even further into dissatisfaction. It was bad enough that my students had turned my seminar into (at best) an advanced undergraduate course. But when I e-mailed my evaluations of seminar presentations, I actually got in return a point-by-point rebuttal of my comments from the worst presenter. You see, he actually was clear and well-organized and incisive and focused, and gave thorough answers to the questions his classmates asked of him; my impressions to the contrary were simply unfounded. Indeed, three of his classmates had complimented him on his presentation.

Well, good heavens, then. Those off-the-top-of-their-heads compliments from your classmates, who can't even be bothered to attend to fundamental distinctions in Aquinas, must obviously be better-informed than the carefully formulated remarks of someone who has devoted the last two decades to learning and teaching about medieval ethics. I beg your pardon. I will not venture again to disturb your complaisant existence on the Planet Wazoombo, or whatever it is that your vague ramblings pass for sage analysis.

The kindly intervention of my beloved M saved me from flaming back -- it wouldn't have taken much; I would simply have stated my real evaluation of his work, which I had softened considerably in my first e-mail -- but the episode had soured me further. My energy for class preparation vanished altogether. Why should I prepare pearls to cast before these swine?

In the meantime, comments on The Book were coming back from the series editor, for whose philosophical acumen I have lost all respect.

Grrrrr!

So I would sit in front of my computer screen unproductively for hours, not wanting to prepare for class, not wanting to return to old research I had fondly hoped was finished, not wanting to start anything new, certainly not wanting to think about the overdue Sewanee papers.

Had it happened? Had the disenchantment hit? I had heard of such things befalling professors -- sometimes early in their careers, but usually (come to think of it) right about at the point where I am now.

The thought was troubling.

Cue introspection. Rummage around in my psyche for a bit.

And there it is. This is not malaise. But it's also not just the expected ups and downs that come with any career. This is impatience.

Let's get on with this thing. If I'm going to be a priest, let's get going.

Weird, because it was only a few days ago that I was caught short by the thought that it's not going to be very long now. The whole life-changing business seemed unnervingly close.

I still need to think about what, if anything, I should make of these conflicting emotions. They may be pointing me toward something I need to consider more carefully, or something I need to commit to doing. Or they may just be signs that I need to calm the heck down.

In the meantime, fortunately, I'm recovering my usual enjoyment of academic life. I'm out of town for a conference now, and things get started in just half an hour. I'll read a paper, enjoy catching up with the work and the lives of some good friends who are fellow-laborers in my particular corner of the academic vineyard, and find a nice church for Sunday where they won't be celebrating the Festival of Cheese that has apparently been scheduled at Saint Luke's.

Even so, the fact remains that my graduate students are rubbish.