You should log the things that happen each day or week, I have decided. I always thought of diaries as cursi but they are meditative, and it’s good.
I dreamed of a humiliating conversation at work, the kind that always happens. I’m asked how to improve the program, and I make recommendations based on national standards, practices in comparable programs, and so on. I’m then told condescendingly, by a person who has never experienced another university, that I am insane, or something else along those lines. In real life I say well, you’re the one who asked for recommendations, and flounce off, usually feeling sorry for the person who has clearly had fewer opportunities in life than I, and so on. I then mysteriously find I cannot concentrate to read. In the dream I felt the pain of these interactions.
I still need to process the horror of working at this place and of my first full-on academic job. I spent so much time processing the horror of my anti-book, but that’s a comparatively small issue, difficult though it was to distinguish NOT THINKING SOMETHING WAS A GOOD IDEA with “procrastination” or in other words, to honor my own judgment.
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 