Stuffing out the sofa and the antenna’s bent

There’s been a thought running through my head for at least a year and a half and probably a little longer. If I were industrious, I’d look back through some old off-line journals and pinpoint the exact genesis of the idea, but I’m not industrious so you’ll just have to trust me that it’s been awhile. The thought? Continuing my education.

I know. I just finished a degree in May 2009. It was a kick-ass, life-altering experience. Even when I was whining about having to write yet another paper. Even when I was complaining about the frenetic pace of reading. Even when I had to work in groups that were less industrious than me (and, as we know, I’m not that industrious). All of it was worth more than a cold beer and a remote control and you know how much I love those two things.

So, I’ve applied for an Educational Specialist (Ed.S.) program at another state university. I had originally thought about a Ph.D., but I don’t want to be an academic as much as I want to be a practitioner. Most people have never heard of the Ed.S. degree, but that’s OK. The people who work in university settings have and that’s really where I’d like to be—working in professional development.

I talked to my supervisor when I returned to work from winter break and she’s supportive. She’s going to work with me to figure out if I can continue to work even if it is at a reduced pace/reduction in hours. I’d really like to keep that position in some capacity because the work will be there and that means some cash flow on my part. I’d also like to work in some capacity at the new university as a graduate assistant, as an intern or something for the experience…not exactly what I thought I’d be doing as I approach my 42nd birthday, but what the hell. Life is short, might as well do something you love and let the other stuff sort itself out. Of course I could be talking out of my butt and the school will say,” Thanks for your tuition, but don’t quit your day job.” Or, worse yet, that they’ll say they’d rather not have me join them.

The school is not close to my house, at all, so if some of the classes must be completed on the main campus, then I’ll have to find cheap housing there and I’ll learn to love the commute back and forth between my regular life and my student life. The better-half is completely supportive of this decision and he’s been the little birdhouse in my soul.