It’s nearing the end of the semester. I’m behind on grading because I’ve been applying for academic jobs and the fall semester is the main “season” for the American market. Fourteen applications down, with a few more to go, but now I have a bit of respite before the next round of deadlines.
So what I should be doing is working on my article so I can finally actually submit it somewhere, instead of only saying I’m going to do that, right? Actually, I have two articles I need to write or revise. No wait, three…
No, I have some ninety (90) essays to grade between now and Christmas, plus the backlog of homework assignments to grade. Fourteen need to be graded by Monday and I can do that, no big deal.
It’s November, and it’s the second year (third? good grief) I haven’t done NaNoWriMo. Even as I think of all of the academic work I need to do, the sundry of paperwork piling on my desks (at work and at home), the meals I need to cook so I have something to eat later, the household chores that need to be done… I just want to spend the day dreaming in my novels — outlining a bit of Orion here, making a revision plan for TFK here, reading up on screenwriting for “Masterpiece” there.
I’ve got four pots on the stove, and fiction has been on the back-burner for so long I think it’s gone cold or sticking to the bottom of the pot. At least academic research is keeping it company back there.
As always, what I want to do exceeds my capabilities and my responsibilities.