Out of a cannon

(The picture is from a good post about the best time of the year for a resolution. Worth a read.)

If you've been shot out of a cannon ... well, I figure the only thing left to do is enjoy the trip. Reach for the next star. Maybe vocalize a bit. You know the sort of thing. Something like, "Wheeeeeeeeee!" (Or, "aaaaaaaaah!" - it depends on the panic level.)

All month long, it's been one thing after another.

  • Unexpected work hours.
  • Being called to be available to testify in court for a morning that turned into two days. (Which is nerve-wracking to everyone in the universe, with the possible exception of a few lawyers ... and perhaps all judges ... which is a segment of the population I hold in much lower esteem than previously ... harrumph!)
  • Writing classes as the bread around a one-weekend Interpersonal Neurobiology of Depression sandwich. (And a very tasty sandwich it was! I've been replicating it ever since. Did you know that writers walk because what "works" is in the brain? The two hemispheres talk to each other because of bilateral movement. Wait. What? I already told you that? Oh. I need to go for a walk.)
  • New work opportunity.
  • New people coming into our "family" in several ways.
  • Same old PLA work to finish ... but I should be entirely done this summer, with a full 45 credits to transfer to my transcript at last! Yay!
  • Same old mess in my house, taunting me and telling me all the successes mean nothing because I can't even keep my house clean.
  • Brand new thinking about same old mess.

And so it goes ...

During the weekend of Interpersonal Neurobiology, I was talking to another student while we were on a break, and we were discussing the merits of the Creative Nonfiction class. The other guy has already taken it. He said it was a class he could take once a year, every year. That's how I feel about it. I've already sent off one of my pieces to a small press journal ... and now I'm working on an actual book-length set of essays, themed around the work that the class has generated. Yes, really. I really am finally saying aloud, "I'm working on a book." For real.

Before next week, I have a speech to write. Before tonight, I have a house to clean. Before next month I have a lot of pages of course work to turn in. There's really only one thing to do in this circumstance.


No comments: