Slogging for a pittance
Friday August 02nd 2019, 11:01 pm
Filed under: Boozy,change,himself,holidays,inner-polish-teenage-girl,seasonal,Work Tags:

Which couldn’t even vaguely describe things now. But certainly did for a long time, but the long time is getting longer ago, and as the years roll on the proportions look ever stranger.

“When you had to work so hard / Slogging for a pittance / In a boot and shoe yard / That’s when you wanted/ What you now give away”

I had to look up the lyrics – they hit me as meaningful at the same time I was all, “in a what and what yard, now?” On my way back from spending an absurd amount of money on dinner ingredients for one, which might be better understood as two nice bottles of wine, and some nice stuff to cook.

Sent an article out today – not to a journal, oh no, but to a semi-distant colleague, for a sanity check. I’ll revise it later in response to their comments, then submit it properly. It’s never going to be perfect, this, the thing that will almost certainly be the most cited thing I ever write. I just want it not to be wrong, to be good enough to hold up without evident error. Even that seems nuts.

For a lazy person, I’ve become pretty shitty at not working. What’s tomorrow- day one a weeklong revisit of that other article, or move straight to the book chapter to sustain the research trip in Sept.? See, that’s nuts. That’s not summer. That’s not me, but, frankly, it’s not not me either. Lamenting (or, being honest) to a newish friend that I’m not very good at this tenuring thing. She offered to dog sit, which helped with my fantasy of summering in a farm house in funny corners of France of England or Italy with YCT and himself. But the learned behavior runs rather deeper than that.

A quiet night, followed by a string of busy ones, then they come home again. Odd to have the space and time here, in a strangely hollowed-out version of daily life. The comforts of home even while rattling around a bit, wondering where the fuck everyone went. Or something. My god the years have rolled on. The vibrancy of the music playing from 25 years ago outshines whole years in the last decade. And so we grow old.


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