deadline, lifeline
Thursday March 19th 2009, 4:54 pm
Filed under: calendars,damn,friends,myjobfuckingrocks,myjobfuckingsometimesdoesntrock,whingeing,Work Tags:

Is there any other way to work?  A friend arrives this evening, and with far too much to do, and far too much I want to do, the deadlines pile up.  The grant application mostly done and mostly submitted which mostly clears that corner of my desk for the graduate papers arriving (mostly?) tomorrow, which I will mostly read and mostly not comment upon in order to grade in accordance with what they’ve mostly earned.  Then there’s that whole pesky article question, which shall probably involve at least a bunch of hours tomorrow, Sat., and Sun., to be scheduled around everything else.  Next up arrives Monday, if he gets around to telling me when, and from Wednesday night onwards it’s a right-on write-off.  See what I did there?  God, sometimes I miss the censor.



i was looking back to see if you were looking back…

A forward looking time, a friend noted, and I myself said I wasn’t particularly nostalgic, which, obviously, prompted a large scale re-read of TPT from 2004 last night.  Bizarrely nudged, then, by an automated email for hosting and domain renewal waiting for me this morning, and fuck me if those domain squatters are gonna get their filthy hands on TPT again, no matter how inactive the site is.  So, take that, squatters.  And, take my money, hosters, for the preservation of ?children’s minds.

2004 seems so impossibly long ago, despite the fact I’m having dinner/drinks with the late-stage love-interest tomorrow.  11 days before en-ring-ing, which, as you might imagine, occupies more and more of my time.  Though I do have to finish this damn article first, but more on that second.    It feels as if there are gaps in TPT, oddly.  On the one hand, reading entries last night bringing memories, sometimes viscerally, madeleine taste or stumbling on a cobblestone style experientially, back.  Other times, however, the nagging feeling that something was missing, that there was more narrative, that the import/site-crossing shenanigans had somehow elided or erased something important, that something had _happened_ in between entries, and that I had, in fact, written about them.  For example, I think the PsychoChick narrative is missing most of its parts, which might suggest everything that wasn’t in the main category isn’t here.  But fuck it, I can check on that shit later.  When I’m not eye-ball deep in deadlines, for example.

Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful, because I wash and dry, just like you.  Don’t hate me, either, because I don’t teach again until September 2010, 18 months from now.  I find this thrilling and terrifying.  I find the upcoming part-tay thrilling, but not terrifying.  I find April daunting, as I try to subdivide 18 months into manageable segments.  I imagine tpt might start getting some more love as I give up this bullshit “you’re an adult now” schedule, and get back to my slacker/productive roots.  So there it is, bitches.  For now.



qotd, or articles on stemmatic editing and the Canterbury Tales are irking me
Sunday March 08th 2009, 2:31 pm
Filed under: procrastination,quotation Tags:

P.G. Wodehouse: “His face took on the expression of an Englishman about to speak French.”

(Back to work.  Just encountered that, and wanted to leave it somewhere.  Finished 2666 last night, finally.  Recommended, but it’s pretty firmly dick-lit.  Did  I mention back to work? Really.)