The boxes are unpacked, the walls are painted, the mountain of essays graded and grades submitted, my degree is somewhere in the registrar's office, where I'm told it will be for no less than four months before it gets to me.
I was like, "Are they hand-weaving the paper fibers?" Jeez.
My fiction class started two weeks ago, and it's awesome.
Awesome in that okay-I-guess-I'm-going-to-sink-or-swim kind of way.
Which is good, really. My teaching has been very comfortable for the last year or so, this class is already a huge challenge, and I can tell my toes have gotten lazy. But now I'm back on them.
I haven't written anything since my thesis, which was not the plan. This summer, I imagined having at least an hour a day to write. But I've gotten strangely into working out (wtf?) and am gravitating toward weights in the mornings, rather than my computer. I doubt it will last long though : )
It feels like the routine should be starting to settle in now, I love that feeling. Where things haven't necessarily been crazy for a few weeks, but they have definitely been scattered and unpredictable, and you feel ready to sink back into the familiar rhythm of things... but at the same time, you have the chance to define that new rhythm from scratch. Oh, transitions, how I love thee so!
Cooking will become more important. Writing and teaching are always hot on the stove. We've been 90% more social lately than we were when I was living out of the car half the time. I see a spin class in my future. And a Russian class. And, if I can find it, this: