When I was little...

When I was little, I would come home from school and my mom would make me bread with butter and jam. That's a story I always repeat when my family is around, so when my parents visited this past weekend, it was a story I trotted out a lot. But it's such a great memory that I can't help myself. I've said it so many times, in different forums, but I think it bears repeating: It's so strange to live so far away from what we knew and loved for so long. Compounded, of course, by the fact that we're not wild about where we live. When I think about how much I'd like to live closer to friends and family once I'm done with my PhD, I inevitably think about how tight the job market is right now. Exceedingly tight. Exceptionally tight. Heart-stoppingly tight. And I can't help but wonder what our lives will look like on the other side. What our lives will look like in a year, two years, five years. Where's that crystal ball when you need it, anyway?