This morning as I was reading through my daily dose of blogs I came to realize that right now I far more enjoy reading other people’s sites than I do updating my own. There are so many things I have thought about writing and started out putting down and yet they never come to fruition. My time has been pulled in innumerable directions and yet it seems like I never get to finish one thing I’ve started before I’m pulled in yet another direction.
Right now I’m hiding out from marking my students big essay’s and just enjoying some downtime- because really who wants to spend what will probably be one of the last, if not last sunny fall Saturdays marking 80 hideously written first year papers which each go in excess of 8 pages? There’s so much I want to write about like my new hockey league, the philosophical musings of my almost 3-year old niece, my siblings, the new twist my depression has taken, the daily fear I have picked up, the search for an acceptable University to apply for my Ph.D studies which would begin this upcoming September, and my current thesis advisor’s struggle with breast cancer. Yet, all that comes trickling out are half-started posts here and there saved to my hard-drive or softly formed, malleable ideas struggling to take on enough shape in my head to be transposed to the computer.
So, instead I sit and I dream and I watch the wind blowing the leaves through the back yard at my parent’s house while basking in the sun streaming through my window. I wish every day could fill me with this kind of contentment and then I remember that tomorrow afternoon I have to get in my car and drive an hour and a half back to my real life of thick books and due dates, of clambering students and unmarked papers. But for now I think I’ll just enjoy what I have right this minute and deal with the consequences later.
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