Okay, now taxes are…

Okay, now taxes are really due; apparently they moved the deadline to today.

I'm not having such a great morning. It's true that I did my taxes already, but otherwise I'm not feeling like I have so much to be cheerful about. I took forever falling asleep, and I wasn't comfortable when I did it. I woke up to a particularly gross dream, and I can't get the details out of my head. I'm not as prepared as I'd like to be for classes -- but it's not that I haven't thought about what to do today; I just haven't come up with as much useful as I'd like. My mind is clear but my body wants to go lie in bed some more. I really could probably afford to go back to sleep for another hour, but I suspect if I lay down, I wouldn't actually fall asleep. Or I would and I'd feel horrible when I tried to get up again later. Argh. Good sleep is so important. I don't know how people who regularly don't get it cope. I really don't. I hereby swear that I will have more sympathy the next time Kevin (often insomniac) resists getting up in the morning.

"But it's past NOON!"
"Kevin sleeping..." [pathetic sleepy face]
"Time to get up!"
"Sleeping time..." [roll over, bury face in pillow, sigh pointedly]

Heh. Okay, that cheered me up a little.

But not enough that I forget the other thing that made me cranky this morning -- reading Jane's journal where she not only puts up nude snaps but talks about sub stuff...eep. Are you guys still going to love me if I never get that brave? 'Cause I think I may never get that brave. I wish...ah well. Don't you all desert me for Jane's journal, okay?

My tea ought to be steeped by now. Hang on.

Oh, that's better. How did I manage before tea? (I think I wasn't trying to do nearly so much.)

Maybe I'm just dreading getting 75 research papers today. I realized that due to the way I've arranged this semester, I really ought to get them back to them by next Monday, so they have a chance to assimilate my comments before their final paper is due next Friday. Theoretically. Let's see if I can manage not to put off all three classes worth of grading 'til Sunday, eh? If I do twelve papers a day, that's about three hours, and eminently manageable. If I wait 'til Sunday, that's 19 hours straight -- and of course I can't do that straight, so brain, you hear me? It's just not feasible to start Sunday. Don't talk yourself into thinking it is. You absolutely must start Saturday at the least, and if you start Tuesday, you'll make your life a lot saner...

Gods, I'm such a hypocrite; every paper I give them a little pep talk on the values of finishing a draft early, so that you're not rushed at the end on your revisions. At least I also admit to them that I've never finished a paper more than three hours early in my life. [bang head against wall]

Gosh, I'm cranky this morning. Sorry, munchkins. I think I'll walk in to campus today; maybe the walk will help me shake off some of this mood (and help make up for the fact that I haven't exercised in a week. I'm gonna turn into a big brown lump. Doesn't THAT sounds appealing? (I guess I should thank my blessings that it's not a big pasty lump. :-)). I should be pleased about the research at least, really I should.

Do you know how rare it is for me to research a story? I mean, I've always known the value of research -- it really does help to have at least a superficial knowledge of what you're talking about. I'd go to these con panels where Connie Willis would be going on and on about the raptures and deep value of research, and it's not that I didn't believe her -- I did! I just knew that I never did the research. I was the poor shmuck of a panelist who had to tell the audience - "Well, she's right, but in case you're a lazy bugger like me who never seems to get around to research, you might want to try these cheats and shortcuts instead...(e.g., asking your pet historian to sum up all the relevant bits you might need to know (what? you don't have a pet historian? everyone should have a pet historian -- they're very useful.)). So I am kinda pleased with myself for actually doing a few hours of research. I suspect I'll be a lot more pleased when I actually write the story using the research. Right now it's a theoretical benefit.

Okay, enough of my kvetching. I have a chapter to read before I teach it. I'm so glad that I'm teaching the same classes this summer and next year -- it's interesting teaching new classes, but a hell of a lot of work and uncertainty, and I've had enough uncertainty in my life for a while; I'm looking forward to some stability.

Have a good week, my dears.

5:45 a.m. Okay, wrote a silly poem. Now I feel better.


Poets who pout are not very funny
Like drinking your tea without sugar or honey
Like asking for scrambled, and getting eggs runny
Editorial sighs
At angst-ing and cries
Make it clear -- you ain't getting no money.

Poets who pout are not very pretty
People expect that poems be witty
They do not expect a pathetic old ditty
So don't be surprised
If they give up on wise
And shout: "Just show us some titty!"

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