I have been in this strange place for some time now -- not sure what the hell is wrong with me, frankly. Major case of NO. NO, I will not do laundry faithfully. NO, I will not finish moving my old desk stuff into this new, smaller one. NO, I will not do any one of seven or eight picky little administrative tasks required of me as department chair. NO, I will not go to bed on time, or wake up on time, or make sure I work out sufficiently each day.
Some things of possible interest: I threw my CV together for a try at a new interdisciplinary position at UC Santa Cruz, my undergrad institution, because I do very much want to move back home. And be done with Stupid College.
If that doesn't happen (as it most assuredly will not), I will try to find a place that isn't a cardboard apartment to live in. Because this was only meant to be a temporary stopping point, and 3 years is enough. By this summer I vow to have found someplace that feels more like me.
My computer died, so I am lugging my 17-inch heavy work laptop back and forth. I know I should be grateful, as there are starving children who would LOVE to have this large and heavy laptop to lug around, but still. (The effort of buying a new one is another one of the things to which I am apparently answering NO.)
The Tall Man and I, his newish girlfriend having cut him lose in August, have been sort of ambling around closer and closer to each others' orbits. I feel very odd about this. But it's nice to have someone in my corner, right here. Whether we might live together again, say, starting this summer? I do not know. I'm used to having my own space after 3 years, so, we shall see. We agree that we need to start new, and not fall into old patterns. Like, he should talk to me about how he feels, and I should not use his emotional paralysis as an excuse to hunker down in depression. Or something like that. Also, I let him know that he needs to woo me, if he really wants us back together again, and today there were tulips!
Too many deaths. Mourning Pete Seeger, even though he was 94 and certainly lived a full and rich life; I'm feeling like the world is a flatter and a colder place. And I'm not sure where I fit in it. Which is all mid-life-y, but does it end, ever?
Tomorrow night the Tall Man and I will be bringing black bean soup to the home of a dear senior colleague and her husband of 50 years -- she suffering badly now from osteoporosis and recently diagnosed with multiple myelomas, a type of bone cancer. I don't know quite how to face that, but she has always been so very honest and down to earth and principled, and I expect we will be able to take our lead from her. I don't really know her prognosis, but she is apparently up and about, in any case, so we shall see.
Palpable melancholia, and feeling stuck, and jeez I'm supposed to be teaching 3 classes and writing and stuff. Luckily the students seem to be bright and very good sports, for the most part. Perhaps they can teach me.
I have missed y'all, and will be trying to go back to note Events of Significance that I have missed. And I am grateful so many of you are still here.