I want to blow off all my adult responsibilities and drown myself in hours of reading and writing. My muse is VERY angry with my lack of attention, and is beginning to slowly destroy the comfortable and nearly perfect rhythm of my daily workload by tempting me with lovely books like chocolate for a PMSed woman. But I have no time for books, or chocolate ... (sighs piteously)I have two jobs, not equal in stature, but both demanding my time that are the bread and butter of my day to day grind. Usually I enjoy both of them, but the weather is changing; to quote Vienna Teng, "Summer move forward and stitch me the fabric of Fall, Wrap life in the brilliance of death to humble us all." And I can only mutely watch when all I want to do is lie on the grass, in the glory of 68 degrees and write about the trees and life and the butterfly on my windowsill. So even this little write seems like not enough, but for now it must be, with 100 pages of curriculum to finish and 89 papers to grade by Tuesday this is all I have time for. Blogging isn't poetry, but it is an island of solace before diving back into the ocean of grading and curriculum.
2 comments:
Ah!!!! Yes, I understand this agony...this pull...and how well put, the island (a little strip of land in the midst of an ocean.) Blogging may not be poetry for most people...but for you, especially when sluffing off the tulmult of a poetic tide, it can be...it is...
may time be carved for you in such a way you have your afternoon in the fall of words on paper, of thought, of freedom....
and in that moment...may you write with abandon. :)
I'm so feeling the same way! I have Flesh and Spirit sitting half-read on my bed side table for what seems like months and I just can't justify the time to read it right now. What happened suddenly to make my life so crazy? You said tow jobs? Huh? I guess I didn't get to talk to you long enough the other day. Love you!
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