As I was googling blogs about academia tonight, the old blog of a fellow doc student appeared out of nowhere. (Old sounds bad. Let's call it vintage, shall we?) Her blog was linked to MY old blog that we were required to write for a doctoral seminar. I loved that assignment. I wrote willy nilly about things that were interesting and entertaining to me until the professor gently encouraged me to write more academically about academia. Then the assignment became more of an assignment and love was lost. But the good news is that I have finished my doctorate and I can write this blog for me. Is this good news for you, the reader that has happened upon this blog? Probably not so much as it is readily apparent that I don't have a plan for this blog.
It is 12:35 p.m. and all day I've been updating my syllabi and thinking a lot about working on the revisions for a book proposal that has been provisionally accepted for publication. One might wonder if this a ploy to not revise. One would be wise to wonder that.
I'm about to start a new semester of college teaching and a new semester of juggling my life. I get that everyone has balls in the air and my balls (my 11 year old son would snicker here) aren't necessarily bigger or heavier or more plentiful than anyone elses' balls. (Ha, I'm even snickering at that ridiculous sentence!) I'm going to step away from this paragraph before I decide in a moment of late night hilarity that I should rename my blog something that involves the words heavy balls. Sadly, that might be an improvement on the blog name, which was chosen simply because I enjoy the words joy and shenanigans, not because I had a clever plan for how that would somehow epitomize my writing here.
I desperately need to go to bed right at this moment. But now that I've started writing something other than revisions, I know what will happen. I will lay there and words will start dancing around in my head. The same words that are not flowing now, when I am actually writing. But the minute I'd like them to vacate the premisis, they will flit about, teasing me, emploring me to turn the computer back on and write. The promises of these words are not to be trusted, as I know they will disappoint me if I take the bait. So words, let's make a deal. I'll write you all down tomorrow. You show up, I'll write you down - a very even transaction. But tonight, words, as quoted from the man Dr. Seuss does not name that does not like green eggs and ham, "You let me be!"
No comments:
Post a Comment