Full of...
You may fill in the blank in the title, if you wish. Given my own dirty mouth, there is generally only one possible option, but today, I find myself wanting to substitute "energy" or "purpose."
For some strange reason, I'm filled with the ability to get sh--I mean STUFF done. It's currently 11 a.m., and I've already:
1. corresponded quite genially with a colleague about finishing off a project that we've been procrastinating on for the entire summer
2. paid all of my bills, including the overdue ones that I mistakenly neglected prior to European trip (ARGHGHGHGH!)
3. emailed a graduate students about his impending doom unless he provide a draft of his thesis to me posthaste
4. emailed the PR director here at Ascesis U. to get her to intervene in the debacle that is the flyer for my co-directed series of panel sessions
5. emailed the editor at a journal in response to a call for book reviews that the recently posted
YEEEHAW! All this on one cup of coffee. What gives? All of you Gen-X'ers might remember the ever-so snarky phrase "I'm high on life." Well, it's not that, exactly, but I do think that I'm remembering the nascent buzz one gets from completing minor tasks so as not to have them hanging over one's head inevitably.
Thus, #5 marks a new experiment in my applying above revelation to my scholarly writing. Remember the endless whinging and panic of my article-writing at the beginning of the summer? Well, here's my theory: project too big, no beautiful seratonin-buzz from ever completing anything, thus, endless depression and "I can't do it!" wailing. [Note: As a child, my mother forced me to take years of piano lessons, which I hated. And I would sit down to practice, and wouldn't be able to play a song through perfectly on the first try, and would get more and more frustrated, and then would begin to bang my fists on the piano in great thuds, wailing, you guessed it, variations on "I can't get it!" or "I'll never get it!" Such a joy, was the young Kfluff.] Thus, despite the fact that one of the top journals in my field has announced a call for articles that are spot-on descriptions of my dissertation chapters, I'm opting for the book review instead. I'm betting that I need a small, finishable and published piece under my belt to get enough of a high to push through the completion of an article.
Wish me luck.
For some strange reason, I'm filled with the ability to get sh--I mean STUFF done. It's currently 11 a.m., and I've already:
1. corresponded quite genially with a colleague about finishing off a project that we've been procrastinating on for the entire summer
2. paid all of my bills, including the overdue ones that I mistakenly neglected prior to European trip (ARGHGHGHGH!)
3. emailed a graduate students about his impending doom unless he provide a draft of his thesis to me posthaste
4. emailed the PR director here at Ascesis U. to get her to intervene in the debacle that is the flyer for my co-directed series of panel sessions
5. emailed the editor at a journal in response to a call for book reviews that the recently posted
YEEEHAW! All this on one cup of coffee. What gives? All of you Gen-X'ers might remember the ever-so snarky phrase "I'm high on life." Well, it's not that, exactly, but I do think that I'm remembering the nascent buzz one gets from completing minor tasks so as not to have them hanging over one's head inevitably.
Thus, #5 marks a new experiment in my applying above revelation to my scholarly writing. Remember the endless whinging and panic of my article-writing at the beginning of the summer? Well, here's my theory: project too big, no beautiful seratonin-buzz from ever completing anything, thus, endless depression and "I can't do it!" wailing. [Note: As a child, my mother forced me to take years of piano lessons, which I hated. And I would sit down to practice, and wouldn't be able to play a song through perfectly on the first try, and would get more and more frustrated, and then would begin to bang my fists on the piano in great thuds, wailing, you guessed it, variations on "I can't get it!" or "I'll never get it!" Such a joy, was the young Kfluff.] Thus, despite the fact that one of the top journals in my field has announced a call for articles that are spot-on descriptions of my dissertation chapters, I'm opting for the book review instead. I'm betting that I need a small, finishable and published piece under my belt to get enough of a high to push through the completion of an article.
Wish me luck.
posted by kfluff at 11:25 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home