The trees are turning. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I am back to the all-too familiar feeling that I’m at least five days behind on everything. This morning, technology added to the mix as it so often does; I had to spend a good chunk of time re-sending material that I thought had been crossed off my endless list, thanks to cyberspace glitches. So, I had to rearrange today’s list, which made me further re-arrange next week’s heavy schedule, which has already been altered at least six times. In-semester time is like a line of dominoes standing on end; knock one over and the whole row collapses, and has to be rebuilt; but doing that causes another to fall over, and so on. I’m back to the full-tilt rake-in-the-face method of operation that has been too much a feature of life for, lo, these many years.
At least I’m not the only one; while I was writing the above paragraph, today’s snail mail brought an official signed rejection letter for a faculty position I had never applied for nor even heard of; nor have I ever applied for anything in that particular department. I’ve no idea at all how my name and address got mixed into the applicant pool, but the letter made me laugh and shook me out of my mood.
I hereby resolve to schedule in a couple of visits to Fall, especially at the height of its color, that will be inviolate and completely rake-proof.