It was a week of little sleep and lots of writing, a sore hip and a nasty headache and did I mention little sleep? A week of checking things off my to-do list because my restless brain kept waking me up in the night to make a big to-do over how much I still have to do on my to-do list, so I just buckled down and did it all, or not all but a big part of what I needed to do. I was a rock star this week if I focus on the high points, but it takes quite a lot of effort to look away from the low points, including the time I came this close to setting myself on fire--and yes, lack of sleep played a part in that incident.
What kind of week was it? You decide:
I finished the Natasha Trethewey essay! Well, a complete polished draft--I'll do some revision after getting feedback from my trusty readers. But I couldn't send it for feedback until I'd put a title at the top, and I got stuck because all I could think of was a title I used for an article I published 20 years ago, which gave me pause because how can the concept still be relevant after all these years? Am I stuck in a rut or has the culture circled back to embrace an insight I found interesting 20 years ago?
As a reward for finishing the essay, I went home and baked butterscotch blondies, yum, and then after they'd cooled I spread a very thin layer of maple cream on top, double yum. Dangerously delicious. Good thing I had people to share them with because I could have eaten the whole batch myself.
Speaking of eating, yesterday I picked my first yellow squashes of the season and right this minute my favorite squash dish is baking in the oven. The whole house smells delicious, and I didn't even have to set anyone on fire.
Caught a mouse this week but I don't know whether it was the same mouse I saw IN MY BEDROOM the other night, on the nightstand right next to my face. What would a mouse want on my nightstand? Would a mouse be attracted to vanilla-flavored lip balm? Just in case, I moved the lip balm to the bathroom and bought a new set of mousetraps. The dead of winter is usually the time to wage war on mice, but for some reason they're invading during the hottest part of the year. Why won't they go away and leave me alone?
Did the presence of a mouse in my bedroom have any impact on my sleep problems this week? Of course it did. How could I keep sleeping soundly with a MOUSE in my BEDROOM right next to my FACE? And if I had succeeded in accidentally setting myself on fire the next morning, I would have been thoroughly justified in blaming the mouse, because who can properly supervise trash-burning on so little sleep?
Had lunch with some colleagues after Writing Wednesday and someone commented on my new jeans--and yes, I was wearing jeans and a hoodie in the library even though the temperature outside had reached Full Sauna status, and that's all you need to know about how cold they keep the air conditioning in the library--and my colleague said, "You could teach in those jeans." And I said, "Yes I could--if I could relax enough to wear jeans in the classroom." And then she told me something eye-opening: "One of my students described our building as the place where all the men teach in jeans but the women dress up." And you know what? She's right. Time to take a stand for sartorial equality! (You first.)
It seems like I should have more accomplishments to report considering how hard I worked this week, but who wants to hear about completing a course proposal or fiddling with syllabi? One thing I didn't do was mow--too wet or too hot or both--which means I'll have some catching up to do next week. I'd better put mowing on my new to-do list--right after "get some sleep."
No comments:
Post a Comment