A few weeks ago, I started to think about another summer with not much to show for it. I am kind of used to not having big adventures or fun stories, but I can usually at least say, "I got a lot of work done." And I don't want to keep dumping sad news on folks.
Tonight, though, I am realizing two things:
1) I've gotten a heck of a lot done this summer already. Wrote a big grant application. Taught the Summer Institute. Worked on Common Reading stuff with Hannah. Got two syllabi ready. And a bunch more little projects. That makes me feel good, even if it doesn't scratch that writing itch in the same way.
2) I also got professional development work done--just a different kind. And here I am grateful for two new Associate Editor roles that I've taken on: for the McFarland series and for Studies in American Humor. I've reviewed and sent out articles for the journal, learning new skills and to read in a slightly different way. For McFarland, I am once again working through a manuscript that excites me so much--and that I feel I can help make even better. This kind of work--easier to wrap my distracted head around--is meaningful.
Now I find myself tempted to erase everything above. I want to push away those cliched, "Things seemed bad, but here's a bright spot" kind of posts, which I think I write too often. And texts from New York as I write this are so bleak and sad. Who the hell cares about a research agenda?
Maybe I'll let it stand, though, as an artifact of a moment in this hard, sad, and strange summer.
