It’s probably good I didn’t blog yesterday.
Have you ever been so tired that your first response to EVERYTHING is melancholy? Yeah–that was me, yesterday. I was like a walking open nerve–my blog post would have read like one of those teen tragedy songs from the 50’s (Tell Laura I Looooooooooove her….) or a thirteen year-old’s pre-menstrual diary. Yeah–all things considered, it’s probably a good thing the kids pulled me away from the computer to come fall asleep in front of the television before I blogged last night–although their words, “Come play with us in front of the tv” were a lot more flattering!
I wasn’t the only walking open nerve, though–the short people were HORRIBLE–I finally just dragged them to bed about two hours early and sang at them until they gave in. There were still a couple of trips out of bed afterwards, but they were both asleep by 8:30– poor little guys. The Cave Troll is fighting off being sick, and Ladybug was fighting off being disowned–and I managed to wake up early to blog without them–can you believe that? I’m still a little amazed.
Anyway–there wasn’t much to blog about, really. I’m knitting with some silk/malabrigo yarn that feels, uhm, decadent–seriously–so sinful, I’m probably absorbing calories through my skin (because, you know, the calories I eat aren’t enough!) and I’m making fingerless mitts with them. I may make another pair–but simpler–I’m doing a faux cable and I think I should just do a 2×2 rib on the next pair. As depressing as it is, I’m coming to recognize my need for comfort food knitting as opposed to challenging knitting–at this point, if it’s more challenging than stockinette, it takes too long!
I got my blurb in for the Creative Writing class yesterday–I went home and fixed it and then sent it in to the counselor. This actually was a trigger for some of those overwought tears, actually. I was on my way out the door when I got stopped by a young colleague–very young. Very idealistic. Very gung-ho. Very sweet, actually–and he wanted to make sure I was getting my paperwork for the creative writing class in, because if I wasn’t up to it, he was REALLY interested. He was so respectful of seniority and age and accomplishment and all of the work I’d put into it before I felt pretty damned unworthy. I mean, seriously–here was someone all enthusiastic (like I used to be) and ready and willing and, I’m sure, more than able–and here I was, with an eight week backlog of papers on my desk, fighting burn-out with every breath I take– if I hadn’t promised some of my Juniors that I was going to try to teach the class, I would have just let him have it. Besides, he’s sort of the darling of the department heads anyway–I’m sure he’d never be caught fighting to teach a comic essay class by using stand-up comedians, or making copies of slightly dirty fairy tail adaptations because they talked about the corruption of the writing process on language. It’s been so long since I taught the course–I’ll be making up new curriculum all over again!
And that’s another reason I didn’t tell him to take it. The whole idea sort of got me excited about my job–I hold on to those moments, believe-you-me!
But I think I”m going to be torn some more about the whole thing–on the one hand, I’m now superfluous. It used to be I was the only one on the faculty who even had a desire to teach the class. Now, I’ve got young Mr. Sloe-eyed Chipmunk Cheeks in the wings. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing–if I ever get that *snork* big book contract, and can make a living writing as a day job, Creative Writing will continue at the school–and that REALLY makes me happy.
Oops–short people are up, and we’ve got a busy Saturday ahead–time to duck and run!