Why, oh why, did I agree to do this summer class? Still getting details settled. At least the airfare and hotel should be all set, but the money never goes quite as far as you’d hope. The Globe hasn’t called me back but they said they would hold the tickets even if their credit card…
Category: anxiety
Relieved (sort of)
Well, grades are in, but as we all know, that isn’t necessarily the end of the story, so I brace myself for those who are unhappy. One student has already complained about a grade before the final grades were entered, so the odds are good that there will end up being some kind of dispute….
Becoming Elinor Dashwood
We are moving again; at least this time, it’s only about 10 miles. Nonetheless, it will be (as always) difficult. Even more so because we are moving into town and, necessarily, into a smaller place (that’s city life). On the plus side, the apartment is three blocks from my office and includes heat and water….
Long Coats
I’m not happy with my paper for the conference in Oxford. That’s not unusual (when am I ever happy with something I’ve written apart from fleeting moments here and there?), but I have been particularly swamped with work and it had left me with a feeling of nagging doubt. So I woke up this morning…
That Kind of Day
But there are few moods that cannot be elevated by hearing (and seeing) the Dickies sing the Banana Splits theme.
Out of the Blue
Why do I wake up at four in the morning with barely remembered songs or those not heard in ages running through my head. You’d think I’d have something that I just watched on the brain, like this: …but no (and not “Police and Thieves” either from the Xmas episode of Ideal).
On the borderlands
According to the Gregorian calendar, we stand on the edge of a new year. Since most people in this part of the world share that calendar, the belief is ubiquitous. It’s fascinating how much our conception of time guides our lives. The arbitrary markings in opposition to natural markers (sunrise, sunset, warming and cooling seasons)…
Meetings
Jean Paul Sartre is rightly famous for suggesting in his play Huis Clos [No Exit] that hell is other people. I would amend that by saying hell is in fact meetings with other people. To be fair, the meetings I had to attend today have been necessary and informative. But the shock of suddenly being…