My brain is a stupid and inconvenient thing.
I suppose that last night was a better night than all the others for my brain to keep me awake with questions and problems that cannot be solved for months yet, as today is a public holiday, but I still resent the fact that I could have been enjoying the rest I so desperately need.
Normally in the morning after nights like these, I wake up and all of the stuff that was floating around my brain seems stupid. Why was I worrying about that? It’s all going to be okay.
But, now, in the light of day, my brain has not shut up, and the daylight has not done its usual job of making the answer a little more evident.
Now, a lot of the stuff is the existential nonsense my brain comes up with at 2 AM
featuring far too much of this:
but it is mostly summed up by The Clash:
A week before, even a few hours before, this wasn’t really a question. If I’d been handed a renewal contract, I’d have signed it on the spot.
But for some reason, I don’t know anymore. And I don’t know why I don’t know. I just don’t know.
I expected this at some point – and I do miss home, my family and my friends – but that’s not where my thoughts were last night. It was more:
“Is teaching what I actually want to do with the rest of my life? Because I don’t want to be one of those people who’s a teacher because everything else didn’t work out.”
“But I’m not rubbish at this, am I?”
“I don’t know. Am I?”
“If you stay, it’s less upheaval for the kids, less upheaval for the department (even though they must be used to that kind of thing, but surely not having to deal with another new, terrified person who might run away will be a relief), and besides, you practically already told them you’d be staying. And they seemed so happy. Besides, don’t you want to see your second graders graduate?”
“But this isn’t what I want for a career. I know that I want to get back into editing again. This has been valuable experience, but do I really want to spend another year here, and then be trying to work my way into a new career at 26?”
“Shit. I’ll be 26 next year.”
“Editing wasn’t what you really wanted in the beginning.”
“But I loved doing it. I love doing it.”
“Isn’t being in Korea still just a way for you to run away from the real world? The world back home of rent and taxes and relationships and whatnot?”
“How is this not valid real world stuff that I’m doing now? I’m teaching. I’m a teacher. That’s important.”