I've been feeling frantic and harried and on the edge of panicky all day. Partly I'm freaking about the fact that I'm freaking out: I keep saying, "I used to be able to do all this without getting so woefully behind at every possible turn." I don't know if that's actually true: maybe I've always been this far behind and this frantic and I just have a very selective memory.
I will say that when I met with my promotion mentee on Friday, he and I talked about what it was like going through getting our various degrees--and being on sabbatical--and I felt a huge yearning in my soul for that feeling, especially the feeling I had on this past sabbatical. That experience was exhilarating and challenging and calm and focused and wonderful--and I want that feeling back. I don't yet know how to attain that goal, but it's good to have a sense of what I'm trying to create for myself, apart from further mayhem.
I called in sick yesterday--cancelled class as well as my Advisement time--and spent most of the day marking student assignments. I still didn't get them done. I had to race through about half the assignments for the 5:30 102, and I have almost all of the assignments from Nature in Lit yet to mark. I would love to get those back to the students tomorrow; I'm going to be collecting two days' worth of work (Monday's and tomorrow's), and on Thursday I'm hit with the deluge of 102 essays, so I really need to get my feet as clear as possible.
The funny thing is that on Sunday, I knew I wanted to call in sick the next day but I was telling myself that after this week I have a break anyway. When I realized that I have this week and next before the break, I thought, "Well in that case, fuck it: I'm staying home." I had hoped to get some sleep. Hah. Fat chance.
In addition to my difficulty getting on top of student work, I truly have been falling down on the job in terms of P&B. I haven't read the folders (not even Cathy's--still), and I haven't been responding to the endorsement letters my colleagues have been writing for their mentees, never mind writing the ones I am responsible for.
But here it is almost 9 p.m., I have hit several walls in succession; I still need to make a stop at the grocery store on the way home--and probably "should" get up at 6 (or even earlier) tomorrow to get in and get cracking on those assignments for Nature in Lit.
I really highly doubt I'll be any stronger tomorrow, quite honestly (it's a nice little fiction, Scarlett, but we both know better). But I truly can't think about--never mind do--anything further tonight. My brain is experiencing the intellectual equivalent of running on fumes. I'm outta here.