But, alas, what to say?
Firstly I have to say that this semester is a motherfucker. (Pardon my swearing! I like to swear!). What is the nature of this M-Fness? Hard to say.
Mother Fucker Nature, let me list you:
- Teaching a New Class: This is not as hard as it sounds, but harder than it should be. For some reason, I have these little over achievers submitting writing to me constantly. CON-STANT-fucking-LY. Whose idea was this? Mine, apparently.
- Working on Committees. If there is a BANE to any existence it is the creation and subsequent meeting of this and or that committee. One may actually love some of their compatriots on this committee but that does nothing to dull the mind-numbingness of just the sheer fucking actuality of BEING on a committee. Enough said.
- Writing. Am I writing? Hells no. But I have forced myself to write for fifteen minutes each night for say the last week. So I have done _some_ writing. (If I could make the font of the word "writing" smaller so as to indicate how little I do, I would).
- Anxiety. This, friends, is the hobgoblin of little minds. Namely, mine. I worry the shit out of everything. This, however, does not prevent me from watching more TV than is perhaps advisable, and, somehow I manage NOT to worry while actually watching TV (and maybe drinking wine, I won't lie...) but watching TV does not make the anxiety go away. It just distracts it for a bit. What is this anxiety about? Not working on my novel. But, hey, whatever.
- TV: I watch some/bit/a lot of TV. To wit: Brooklyn 99 (Andy Samberg, what what?); New Girl (not as good as it used to be, but Schmidt! He does Crossfit!); The Mindy Project (um, hello?? hilarious, also Morgan!); Modern Family (tight suit!); Parks and Rec (please don't talk to me about the small number of episodes before I have to wait until January....); Continuum (netflix). I think that's it....
And so, friends, my fifteen minutes comes to a close. If you want to know what else I am up to, re: thinking, I will just say sonnets, earthquakes, Pangaea. You're going to have to do the rest of the work yourself.
(Did I mention my neck is fucked up? My neck is fucked up! Tomorrow: massage!!)
3 comments:
Well, who knew that you were the Messenger of TRUTH? I guess I did, but look at you here, delivering THE TRUTH on so many topics! including how funny that tight suit was last week on MF (hey! look what I did there!), teaching a new class (so hard it cannot be overstated how effing hard it is), and commmmmmmmmmiiittteeeeeeeeeeeee work (that spelling of "committee" is to be read as a howl). And even the writing! I was thinking *when in the world is the poetry going to get written? by me?* and the answer is, I don't know (read in the form of a whimper). Well, we carry on. I was glad I got to see you in your really cute skirt today. And I will see you on Sunday, so there's that. And tomorrow, I think? Yay for spotting you!
So nice to read you, here, Dr. "The Truth" Write, swears and all. Especially the swears.
I love your swearing swearing head voice. I miss you, here in and in real life.
I hope your neck feels better with massage and your novel aspirations learn to live more compliantly with your TV watching aspirations. Because they are both good.
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