Please Wait for Me, My Love

At this time last year, I had just finished up my first academic year as a part-time Anthropology student at SUNY Cortland, and life was good. I was excited about the prospects of more in depth studies when classes resumed in the fall. But that summer, disaster struck and my plans were put on hold. Fortunately for my bank account, I was offered and accepted a kick ass job promotion in Northern New York. Unfortunately for my anthropology dreams, the first two years of the job involved an intensive traineeship and a good deal of travel, so there was no room for regular college attendance.

I am now nine months into the two year traineeship and I must admit that I am enjoying the job a great deal. But lately my subconscious has been screaming at me to keep a proper perspective: the new job provides a means to satisfy my material needs of food, shelter, and clothing, but it does not provide the necessary psychological fulfillment and satisfaction.

There was a heavy rainstorm this morning, so the cats and I were stuck inside the house. I went to one of the spare rooms that I hope to arrange into a den or study room when I get around to it. Anyway, I was moving some boxes around and started digging through seemingly at random, when I came across my notebook and folders from last year's class on Development Anthropology.

Reading through my old notes and papers I felt a profound sense of happiness and a dizzying rush of possibilities. I regret choosing to leave my studies, but I also know that I will return just as soon as my current traineeship is over. To bide my time away from formal Anthropological studies, I ordered a few books from Amazon.com that should arrive next week. The fact that I am unable to attend formal classes should not hinder attempts at independent study.

My traineeship ends in August 2008, which perfectly coincides with the beginning of the fall semester. There is a community college in Watertown, as well as SUNY Colleges in Oswego, Canton, and Potsdam. At this time next year, I expect to be preparing for a return to formal studies. A reunion is more than possible; it is inevitable. Please wait for me, my love.