i'm a good time

Since my plane landed on Friday, I’ve managed to:
  • Catch some kind of bug that I mistook as motion sickness, but I guess motion sickness doesn’t usually last five days, does it?
  • Whine a lot about how big New York publishers will never love me the way I clearly deserve to be loved.
  • Simultaneously be all “Who do they think they are, publishing select works of excellent literary fiction? Sistas/Californians/grassroots presses are doin’ for themselves, okay?”
  • Conclude that the world is full of parental surrogates that you simultaneously long to please and try to rebel against.
  • Critique fifty student critiques.
  • Scream as if being stabbed slowly in the eye when, post grading of fifty critiques, I read some complicated (yet legit) question from a student re: our ever-confounding syllabus. Didn’t he know I COULD NOT DEAL WITH LOGISTICS RIGHT NOW?

  • Go to bed—when AK marched into the kitchen, snapped my laptop shut and declared, “You have a fever. You’re going to bed.”

Comments

Sizzle said…
Sometimes we all just need someone to put us to bed. Feel better!
Cheryl said…
Thanks, Siz. I am feeling borderline sprightly now.

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