Arrrgh. WHAT a week. That’s all I can say, of course, except that I wish I had cheerful. light or even interesting things to write about for you. But, as Smith so wisely says, “This is the it it is.”
On the plus side, an unexpected windfall of time let me get about halfway (at least I hope it’s halfway) through the office sorting yesterday, to get many of the things I’ll need for next semester moved out into the semi-public storage we’re stuck with (though that made me feel very uneasy), and to get four boxes packed to come home (almost all books, of my own making and reference books). The strata goes back further in time from my occupation of this space; bits and pieces are there from my old office, back to the very beginning of the Center. I’m compiling a small box to contribute to its archives, however little its history is currently valued. And, I’m finding little personal gems: photos, many many many notes from students and former colleagues, including notes and cards from Marilyn (each accompanied by a sharp little pang)…things that help my current feeling-bludgeoned state by reminding me that no, I truly have not wasted the last fifteen years.
Tomorrow, the Ragdale party. That will also help, as it always does, by reconnecting me to my much larger, vibrant, open and warm Real Life; Paul’s been doing that too. And, in one more week, plus some fiber-beating and the actual loading and moving out, I will have six weeks of my own It.
another 3am window…