Moody

I've meant to post every night this week and just haven't been in the right head-space. I'm not entirely sure I am tonight, either. I've fallen off some sort of ledge and have been in an rank mood most of the week. I think it's largely cumulative effect: I've been nagging myself pretty hard all semester and at the same time trying to find balance, looking for bright sides wherever I can find them. The bright sides are decidedly there, but this week it's been harder to focus on them, and the nagging voice has gotten so loud I think I'm rebelling against myself. When I lose sight of the bright bits, I tend to get into a negative feedback loop: I feel crappy, so it's hard to focus on work, so I don't get "enough" done, so I feel more stressed, so I feel even more crappy, yadda yadda yadda. And random detritus in my personal life has been feeding the negative cycle lately, so I'm struggling to snap out of it.

I didn't get those homework assignments marked that I talked about on Monday: they're still sitting in a pile (on the office floor at the moment, as I contemplate where they belong in the ever-shifting list of priorities--which in turn dictates whether they stay here or go home with me). And now I've got first versions of the second paper for my 101 classes to mark; those have to be back as soon as I can manage, so the students have time to revise without doing damage to the time they need for their final projects and papers. P&B business is piling up (though I did crank out drafts of letters of support for sabbatical applications today, one of my myriad responsibilities crossed off that list). I just spent hours adding to and refining the final project assignment for the 101 classes. This is the time of semester when I feel as if we're cranking our way toward the highest point on a roller-coaster: one can see that insane rush downhill toward the end looming, but we're still chugging painfully toward the crest--and yet I have a white-knuckled grip on the safety bar, trying to prepare myself for that wild ride. Once we hit that point, everything happens so fast there's no time to anything but hang on and holler until final grades are turned in.

I came in this morning for a symposium (good for the promo folder--and as a bonus, I actually got some decent ideas out of it), and I've been in the office since. I think on Monday I talked about how full my (metaphoric) dance-card is this weekend, and because I've got so many other things going on--and am in this crabby state--I'm not at all sure how much I can realistically expect to get done.

I keep reminding myself, however, that 99.9 percent of the pressure I feel is self-imposed. Even the P&B pressure is in a sense self-imposed, as I chose to run for the committee. (And--evidence of something, perhaps my lack of sanity--I think I will run again this year, for another 2-year term.) I've picked the committees I'm on; I put together the assignment schedules; I decide how much to comment on papers, and so on. In turn, that means I can decide how to proceed. I can cancel or reconstruct assignments; I can handle paper grading in a different way; I can duck out of some committee meetings instead of always being the good Do-Bee (a reference for those of you who remember Romper Room). I need to seriously think through what I can let go of, what I can do differently--without feeling that I'm compromising my standards. And that includes considering whether it would do any significant damage to my students were I to cancel another day or two of classes. It feels a little ridiculous that I cancel classes in order to do what I need to for my classes, but it's a relatively simple solution to the time crunch. The main thing, though, is to make a decision that leaves me feeling good about myself professionally and doesn't ride me ragged personally.

It's relatively early--not even 6 yet--but I think the most productive thing I can do this evening is attitude adjustment (and take care of my bodily health). I do wish I could run away to the Virgin Islands for a few weeks and then pick up from here--but as capable as I am, I haven't yet invented a time-dilation device, so I can't squeeze a two-week vacation into 12 hours, more's the pity. But I have pictures of beaches up on my bulletin board, and there are times when it is immensely soothing to stare long and lovingly at them and daydream: me, creamy sand, crystal waves, gentle salt breeze, delicious book lying idle in my lap--and infinite stillness all around. Ah, heavy sigh. Imagination is a wonderful thing.