Seven days of blogging. This examination of my life and my aging process is harder than I thought, duh. Whenever I sit down to write I tell myself it’s OK to just jot down a few sentences and hit the publish button. In fact I may do that today. But now, I must ruminate.
Again, I thank this self-imposed task of recounting the day and looking forward to the next, for it gives shape to what I do and how I do it.
It feels like I am squaring my shoulders for the big push into the fall. It’s lovely outside and I’ve been at the desk all day and I need to get out.
Or at least circular, (I love it when central metaphors present themselves, don’t you?) Check this out for 1-idiocy on my part that I tried to follow the directions and 2- the idiocy of the directions.
Wish I could say the same thing for my psyche…50 has wrapped itself around me like a damp cold blanket. All I see is the 100s of unanswered emails, the 25+ voicemails and the unfinished syllabus for a brand new class I am teaching on Monday.
OK, so I am suffering a bit today, but I am grateful for the pain. As I contemplate contempt for my 50-year-old self I have to acknowledge that I am in pain because I am loved. We had an amazingly fun party last night that started as planned at ATA and ended, unplanned, at my [...]
And my site is all blurry this morning, it’s like there’s a very smoky forest fire in my house. Thank goodness for the ability to increase font size. Now if this isn’t an odd glimpse into the future.
