I got some work done at one of the coffee places today while my car was in the shop for an oil change. I'm liking that I'm getting started a little earlier (my sleep cycle has spontaneously shifted a little earlier), but I have to just accept that I am probably never going to finish a day and post to the blog saying, "I feel like I got enough done." What would be enough? (Having the book published. Short of that....) So today I did a little of this and a little of that, all rather random, and before I completely pack it in for the day, I'm going to scan pages from the library books I need to return, so I'll have them to refer to later.
That idea, by the way--that I could actually scan pages instead of photocopying them--feels like a significant (albeit brief) moment of intelligence. I have the capability. I even pay for the "professional" version of Adobe so I can combine individual scans into one document (excessively cool beans), so why not take advantage? Of course, I started to do the scans before I sat down to write this post and the computer and printer/scanner weren't talking to each other yet (they have to think about it for a long while first, apparently), so I'll do the scans when I finish this post.
Which, by the way, shouldn't take long. I don't have a lot to say, other than yes, I did some work. No, it doesn't feel like enough. Yes, I recognize the tedium of that as a perpetual refrain. And oh by the way, as I was walking earlier, I found myself chewing over possible assignments, formats, structures for MDC130. I know that eventually the siren call of class prep is going to get too loud to ignore, but for now, I'm content simply to allow my brain to romp around, digging up ideas and flinging them about, because I know that sooner or later things will start to coalesce, and when they do, that's the time to start putting words down. Not yet.
I had a long talk with a friend yesterday, and she asked how I could wrap my brains around the sabbatical project. The project itself is absolutely clear to me (though the individual parts become more clear as I start to address them), but the sabbatical process is odd. My two big fears are one, that, come September, I'll be frustrated and unhappy, feeling like I didn't take full advantage of the time, and two, that I'll resent the hell out of having to go back to teaching--especially with the added burden of having to accommodate the seminar hours in a way that is "permitted." I know that kind of projection into the future isn't useful (and I know that, when I project into the future, it's almost invariably negative, a pattern I'm trying to consciously confront), so my main task each day really is just to be in this day, whatever this day may be.
And today was fine. So I'll chalk that up on the plus side and call it a day.