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How Old Am I?

I have just discovered something that has completely freaked me out. Ordinarily, I am pretty unfazed by the whole passage-of-time, getting-older, good-lord, what-happened-to-my-early-thirties thing.

However, I’ve just discovered through a random blog-connection that a former student of mine — a student who wrote what was without question the best essay I ever got from a freshman-writing sequence student back at that Private University in the Public Service — is now an Assistant Professor.

I’m still trying to do the math on this one. The good news, I guess, is that he managed to go from B.A. to Ph.D. in four (count ‘em: four) years. But this discovery nonetheless reminds me that, if all goes really well over the next couple of months, I’m going to wake up one day in December to discover that I’m no longer a junior faculty member.

The sound you hear is me hyperventilating.

(Thanks to Languagehat for the lead. Really. I mean it.)


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