Phyllis...

2 March 2023: I got to meet the woman who took care of Jo when she was brought into the shelter--when she was sick and tiny and needed so much care. It was really lovely to meet her, hear about Jo's early days, and tell her how well she is doing now. This little cat--as much work as she can be--is just pure love and joy. 

Work husband...

1 March 2023: Today was kind of a blur--13 hours passed between me leaving the house and getting home and I still didn't feel like I had enough time to get through everything I wanted to. Things are stressful and bad and hard even as other things (and sometimes the same things?) are fun and delightful and going very well. And tonight, with the conference in Nashville that we are presenting at just a couple days away, I am grateful (again) for Tim and how often he plays a key role in making the good stuff as good as it is and the hard/bad stuff not as bad. 

Submitted, almost submitted, almost done...

28 February 2023: Today, I hit "submit" on one grant application, am now one signature away from submitting another one, and have a contract for the new Honors Director one signature away from being fully executed. Add to that finishing my annual report and merit pay letter on Sunday and submitting our NWP site report on Monday. 

In other words, making some good progress on the million things hanging over my head. It feels good.

"Something there is that doesn't love a wall..."

27 February 2023: Robert Frost came to mind on my walk today...

"full of boredom..."

26 February 2023: "Herland, as a piece of utopian fiction, sits neatly at the intersection of these two insights, framed as an ethnographic account which despite its interesting premise is full of boredom for its protagonists as well as for (some of) its readers" (Awkward-Rich 339).

This passage made me laugh; I am one of those readers who found Herland pretty boring, even as I acknowledge its importance. Awkward-Rich (what a name!) does make a cool argument here--that boredom is part of the point--but I appreciated also feeling seen in my boredom.

Speaking of boredom, someone seems to be feeling better today, though not thoroughly entertained by me typing notes...

Work Cited

Awkward-Rich, Cameron. “The Fiction of Ethnography in Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s Herland.” Science Fiction Studies, vol. 43, no. 2 [129], July 2016, pp. 331–50. EBSCOhost.

Midterm grades: DONE!

25 February 2023: Weird day here. Jo also seems to be a bit sick (and has worms--for which the vet can't see her until late March), so I am worried about her. But! I just clicked "submit" on my last midterm grades and "weird day/anxiety about the kitten" be damned. We need a bit of chair-dancing, even if just for a moment.

Saying goodbye...

24 February 2023: Said goodbye to someone who I haven't known that long but who had a huge impact on my life. I am staying vague for privacy reasons, but the whole situation is tragic. Knowing him has been a gift, though. The fact that it's so sad only makes that clearer. 

Home early on a 70 degree day...

23 February 2023: I have been dealing with a sore throat since Monday (but also...kind of all the time, on and off, for a long time...). This afternoon, it was enough of a thing that I came home a bit after 3:00 to take (another) COVID test. Negative. Again. Thank God.

But it was also nice to get home early, open the windows and back door for the girls so they could enjoy this lovely weather, and just work from here. I got so much done today (mostly before coming home), but I am also reminding myself that I can be productive at home. And it's nice to come home with some pep still in my step, not mentally exhausted. 

Let's see if I can make myself let this happen more...

Last home game...

22 February 2023: Last home game of the women's basketball season today. They didn't win, but it is very clear how much they have grown this season. They will all be back next year, so I am already excited about that. 

Cooking time...

21 February 2023: I have so much to do over the next month or so. It's overwhelming. And I felt kind of run down and really tired all day. But I knew I had to get home and get some cooking and baking done for a "meal train" meal that I volunteered to deliver tomorrow. I am a slow cook, so it took me a long time to get everything done, but that ninety minutes or so of work, listening to some podcasts, took me out of my own head for a good stretch of time. So that part? Kind of nice!

Nobel Prizes

20 February 2023: Got to listen to the annual tradition of the President's Lecture Series on the recent Nobel Prizes. It's always wonderful to hear my colleagues talk about their areas of expertise and realize once again how lucky our campus is to have them on board. 

"Little Rock"

19 Feburary 2023: Hoping to call up some grad-school-intense-writing-session vibes, I am listening to my  Collin Raye albums on shuffle. In the old days, I'd put six of his CDs in the changer and dive into hours and hours of writing. But it's been years (I think?) since I've done this, so I decided to attempt a digital version. 

Anyway, just found myself tearing up at "Little Rock," a song that has always gotten to me but hits differently ever since I lost my brother to addiction. 

The line that gets me every time? "Sorry that I cried when I talked to you last night...," which just quietly crashes into what has come before and then leads to the first chorus. 

But every line of it works so well. The specificity of the references ("selling VCRs in Arkansas at a Walmart"), and devastating other stories lurking in the lyrics ("Jesus would forgive, but a daddy don't forget") hint at the whole world of pain before the song's opening. The song's build--classic country ballad stuff--feels so earned. So, too, does the muted shakey determination of its ending. How will things turn out for this speaker? Who knows? He thinks he's on a roll "here in Little Rock" and that he's "solid as a stone," but is he? It hangs there. 

"Sorry that I cried when I talked to you last night." It's just so much; an apology, a plea, a hand reaching out. Shew. 

And there goes 15 minutes of writing, but not on my book. Oh well. Back to work I go. The mix has shuffled on to another song. Sorry that I cried when I was supposed to be writing. 

Kinky Boots

18 February 2023: For Christmas, Tim and Kevin got tickets for all of us (them, me, Hannah, and Cory) to see Kinky Boots at the Olney Theater. We had lunch first, which was amazing (the food and the company). The show was great, too. Carpooled with the kids and treated them to some Dairy Queen treats when we got back, which made it and end-to-end perfect time. 

Inspired...and worried...

17 February 2023: Thinking this evening about how many people work so hard every day to support the university and our students, particularly after being in the room when the person I was meeting with got a call about a student being discovered in a state of distress. (Keeping it vague.) The support team was already springing into action, but I kept thinking how tired this woman must be. But she keeps working, like so many others do. It's amazing and inspiring. At the same time, I wonder how long it is sustainable without more support.  

"If I Can't Have You"

 16 February 2023: On another busy, meeting-filled, "big to-do list," day, this song had me doing some chair-dancing. Always grateful for that.