At my old school, it was Sport Coat Wednesdays. I think we ought to dub these "Hallelujah Fridays (I have been waiting for you forever)". After school, we talk about things that happened in department meetings in the parking lot, snow settling in the folds of our coats. We hope for snow days; it is that time of year. There is no possibility before winter break, but we can hope, and we can be glad that next week, we face the kids for two days, then escape into the corners of our universe where food is warm and we can stay in our pajamas all day. It is almost Thanksgiving, and I was not able to avoid a stack of assignments to bring with me to Michigan--this year it is tests on Paradise Lost, which I hope will be less torturous than the one hundred and twenty freshmen mystery stories, which made me decide, once and for all, that I needed to go back to graduate school before I poked my eyes out.
Tomorrow I need to settle in and finally write that review for Skirt Full of Black. I have procrastinated not only because I have found a thousand things to distract me--lesson planning, the GRE, applying for graduate school, etc., but I also want to do justice to the book. So my only priority this Saturday (besides to get my submission to Dislocate in the mail--it will be my third submission this week--Wednesday I sent out one to Crab Orchard, not to be confused with Crab Creek, and Thursday I sent out one for Alaska Quarterly--I can anticipate the mail again, twiddling my thumbs, nervous). After that, maybe I can etch out the villanelle that has been dancing in the halls of my head.
Oil change, check.
Graded quizzes, check.
Will read the whole of Brave New World this weekend.
How easy that all is.
I'm also distracted by looking at writer's retreats: Yaddo, Millay Colony, Hedgebrook. Summer writing programs too: Split Rock (of course), Squaw Valley, Iowa Summer Writing Festival, Aspen Summer Words, etc. I want to fill my summer with escape and creativity, with travel and adventure and poetry.
15 hours ago