January 11.

How can I be 37? It sounds like such an advanced age, an age at which I ought to be wise or at least set in my ways. For me, though, it's an age at which I feel very, very young. The last year has made it ridiculously clear that I need to make big changes in how I live my life, something I find by turns frustrating, frightening, and hopeful.

The first of those big changes is coming right up: I'm turning in the job I've found so stressful over the past three-odd years for something I think I'll find less so. I gave notice at the old job a few weeks ago, and am slowly coming to terms with everything that will entail: leaving a group of people I've come to care about, turning away from a challenge, likely even taking a pay cut. It's been hard and wonderful to hear over the past few weeks that I'll be missed there. I'll probably be gone by the end of the month.

Where am I going? Well, it's reasonably certain that I'll be the assistant to the director of a much smaller program on campus, although nothing's final as yet. If it works out, I think it will be a nearly perfect job for me right now. I'll have a chance to learn some new things, but in a quieter environment; I'm hoping that will help me manage my energy better so I can start taking classes again.

In the meantime, I've been having a great birthday week despite my battle with a nasty respiratory thing. Mom and Dad took me out to an indulgent dinner on Saturday, the lovely Carissa organized a wonderful (and deliberately non-surprise) dinner tonight, and I've been showered with gifts and good wishes. Thank you all--I won't be complaining this year about having a birthday so close to Christmas.