Lest you think I have my own office or anything:
When I'm not at my desk, I'm doing a lot of this:
And snorting and rolling my eyes every time I see this on my bookshelf:
Working evenings and weekends. Visiting the emotionally unavailable barista way too much. Not getting enough exercise. Not baking. Not making time to get my bubba a badly needed (first!) haircut.
Not that he cares.
Making time for bubba, always, and some time for soaking up early spring:
And generally, in spite of it all, trying to savor this time. My productivity. The support of friends and family, the attention of my professors. Moments, a few, of feeling like a well-oiled writing machine. Like a thinker, even. Fretting that I won't get it all done. Realizing that this is it, the culmination of what I have been doing for the last four-plus years (except for that having a baby thing), and it could be the peak of my career. What a great opportunity this is, and how lucky I am. It's all socially constructed, it doesn't really mean anything, and I will certainly not change the world. And it's sure not related to intelligence. But it's a goal, and I'm trying my level best to achieve it.
So 'xcuse me for a bit. If I comment on your blog, shoo me on out of there. Go away, Nora! Get back to work!
Here is another thing I look at every day while I work. Me skydiving--that's me, up in the air in the parachute. Here I come...
Until next time, a couple more weeks,
Nora
Nora
