What Makes it Count?
Okay, I know, I've been gone for awhile. Not a long while, mind you, just long enough to get to Gotham and stroll around in 450% humidity. Seriously, people, how do the city-folk stand it? Chrysler Building be damned, I'm sticky and I can't take it anymore!!
Enough of that--more on the weekend later. I'm on my way to the gym (you know, because now that I'm back home, I just can't manufacture the kind of torrents of sweat that I did in the city... Seriously, people, I was practically a desiccated husk by Sunday afternoon).
Here's the thing: Mr. Fluff kindly removes himself from the premises this morn so that I can get back to work on my article. [Yes that article--pipe down.] Do I work on it? Do I even open the file? Nooooo. Of course not. Is it because I was too busy enjoying myself, watching Constantine on HBO, skimming the Pottery Barn catalog for furniture I can't afford or fit into the teeny demesne of Chez Fluff and reading the posts on sex at Bitch PhD? Noooo! Instead, I was writing an email to my departmental colleagues. Wheeeeee!
Seriously, can this kind of writing please count toward my word aggregate for the day? Because not only is it long [yup, I know, all of you want to be in my department now], it took me almost 3 hours to craft the thing. Write, erase, write, look at the thesaurus, write, have someone else read it, rewrite it. Lordy, lordy. It's as polished as anything else I've produced in the last month. Perhaps it's actually a fitting example of the model I use to approach all writing tasks--attempting to anticipate patronizing or hostile reactions while I forward an argument. And that, my friends, concludes the worst description of academic discourse EVER.
Back with more fluff, less substance tomorrow, folks.
Enough of that--more on the weekend later. I'm on my way to the gym (you know, because now that I'm back home, I just can't manufacture the kind of torrents of sweat that I did in the city... Seriously, people, I was practically a desiccated husk by Sunday afternoon).
Here's the thing: Mr. Fluff kindly removes himself from the premises this morn so that I can get back to work on my article. [Yes that article--pipe down.] Do I work on it? Do I even open the file? Nooooo. Of course not. Is it because I was too busy enjoying myself, watching Constantine on HBO, skimming the Pottery Barn catalog for furniture I can't afford or fit into the teeny demesne of Chez Fluff and reading the posts on sex at Bitch PhD? Noooo! Instead, I was writing an email to my departmental colleagues. Wheeeeee!
Seriously, can this kind of writing please count toward my word aggregate for the day? Because not only is it long [yup, I know, all of you want to be in my department now], it took me almost 3 hours to craft the thing. Write, erase, write, look at the thesaurus, write, have someone else read it, rewrite it. Lordy, lordy. It's as polished as anything else I've produced in the last month. Perhaps it's actually a fitting example of the model I use to approach all writing tasks--attempting to anticipate patronizing or hostile reactions while I forward an argument. And that, my friends, concludes the worst description of academic discourse EVER.
Back with more fluff, less substance tomorrow, folks.
posted by kfluff at 3:03 PM
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