Notebook: Morning Coffee with My Former Self

This morning, I need to be providing feedback on application letters for jobs, which my students wrote for the job search unit we just completed. I haven't graded one this morning.

I was feeling exhausted, and when I'm feeling so mentally weary, I write, read, and get organized to just let go of the stress for a minute. Now I'm feeling better, relieved.

I read an article on adjunct instructing, and I'm reminded that I work in one of the absolute best places to be an adjunct instructor--I have an office (albeit shared) with my own desk that is always mine where I can leave things. I have a full course load at one school rather than commuting between two or three. I have health insurance. I am genuinely one of the best cared for adjunct instructors in university academia. If the burden of cover letters is weighing me down, at least I don't have to commute home for an hour and then grade. My home is a 10-minute walk from my office.

I also decided to clean out a hoard of scribbled on pages in the old notebook I use to write down my lesson plans. I know, I know--this is the modern era. People type lesson plans. But for me there's just something about using paper. I use a paper calendar; I hand-write my reading notes; and I lesson plan in a notebook. Perhaps its a necessity--I'm doing most of my grading electronically.

Anyhoo, as I tear out pages of the notebook, I skim them to make sure I want to throw them away. There are some story drafts and brainstorms in this notebook, and I never throw out a story. (You should see my collection of idea sticky notes. It's getting quite large.) The pages of this notebook are such an odd and broad-spanning preservation of my past.

The book is largely concentrated on the tail end of my sophomore year of college, but it extends into my junior year. There are notes between my friends Curtis, Bret, and myself. We talk about strange things: muffins, tattoos, which branch of the military is sexiest, mockery of our classmates. There is a sketch of a penis drawn by Bret, which I reframed into a squirrel because I didn't want anyone to see a penis in my notebook. We didn't focus much during Brit Lit I.

There are also genuine class notes--homework assignments, sketches of neurons, a line-by-line interpretation of some unlabeled sonnet. There are waves of fitness and food logs. What a health nut I was! By comparison my penchant for health is quite tamed now. There are sentence diagrams of every sentence I found interesting or significant during the semester I took Traditional and Modern Grammars. Perhaps my favorites snippets of text are quotes from my friend Jesse when we were studying for grammar: "I am smart, whearas Cheryl is not." She was demonstrating the use of a subordinating conjunction.

There's a bad short story with my friends Jackie and Curtis cast as hobos. I'm guessing they were mocking me, and I wrote that to mock them back--I'm sure they read it as I wrote, or I read it aloud. The word "junkitude" is written in quotes, and I'm not sure why or in what context it made it into the notebook. Perhaps the oddest line is "Psych appointment - I always wanted to be Teddy from Peter Pan." All I can say is, huh?

I have torn out all of the pages to take up to the shredder box. Perhaps the greatest strength of finding my past preserved in a notebook is that I can revise it with finality. When the page is destroyed, the content is gone, which is what I want to do with some of my more emo journalistic entries. I know that, for the most part, I don't want to be that person, except I want the stories. I want the creativity. It's the only part of myself I will preserve from that notebook, perhaps because I am vainly seeking to regain that portion of my former self.

Now that I've written this entry, I've exhausted the mechanisms of relief, and I must grade, but I wish I was writing a story. Or wishing I still knew how to write a story.

Feeling the Downward Pull

For those of you who also suffer from depression, you know that a high can be as rough as a low. With a high comes fear. Fear that good things will slip away. With this fear comes the same dark thoughts that come with a low. Is anything really worth it? Is it time to give up? The scariest thing about these thoughts on a high is that with a high there is no worry that someone will feel to blame. How can they? If everything is so perfect, it's hard for something to look like a cause.

On a more positive note, I've got to get a little drive back into my life for the purpose of coping. My major drive used to be my intense faith and as a secondary element of that, my writing. When I was a religious zealot, I felt like writing was my calling. It was my mode of evangelizing. Since I no longer am a religious zealot, I feel like my passion to write has fizzled out.

That can't be the case though. I wrote constantly long before I was an uber Christian. That portion of myself is hiding somewhere. I need it. I need to cut my Netflix subscription and my internet and force myself to find entertainment in constant reading and writing again. It's time.

Am I a Writer Anymore?

I've considered myself a writer since about 5th grade. I wouldn't even be embarrased to show someone some things I wrote at that age. I think as a 5th grader I was more skilled than some people currently published, but I'm not sure I am a writer now.

When I sit down to write now, everything I write is flat. I end up feeling like this:

...and yes, this is a fairly accurate depiction of my living room, except the parakeet has passed on, and his cage is sadly empty.

Is this the end result of too much academia and an emphasis in rhetoric and composition? I hope not because writing has always been a major stabilizing force in my life. Writing is empowering. It's something a shy person like me can do to make a difference. But I can't make a difference with writing that no one wants to read.

Or perhaps my struggle with writing has nothing to do with my academic endeavors. Perhaps it is yet another barrier I am struggling against with the resurgence of symptoms of depression. I've been managing this disease for 10 years (it was unmanaged before that). Working out, eating right, doing productive things all keep me in line. I am firmly against medication. 

In graduate school, I let myself be too busy to maintain my routine, and it started sneaking back up on me last November and has been hitting me in waves ever since. When I get depressed, I become a self-deprecating, nervous person. I can't sleep at night, but I want to curl up in bed all day. I can't eat. I'm less efficient at work. I develop paranoia that nobody likes me, even if we're supposedly friends.  

This resurgence had a major impact on my school work and my relationships last year, and with my impending joblessness, it's hitting me as hard as it's ever hit me before. I am physically sickened by it right now, so much so that I've been working from my parents house because the idea of returning to that city I hate during the week my boss is on vacation and I would be alone in the office gave me a panick attack. I couldn't get out of bed or eat.

It's always bothered me to be so smart and capable and to find myself so unreasonably limited by this irrational disease. I've got to start doing something worthwhile like writing to overcome it. I need to really focus on being a doer--work out, write, cook, crochet.

So I've got to keep telling myself that I am a writer. I made it through grad school with a 4.0, and I passed my defense with distinction. I can do amazing things despite this disease, even when it's trying its damnedest to pull me under. I can get a job now because I am incredibly quick to learn new things, and I am a skilled writer with a good sense of how to communicate with diverse perspectives.

Next, perhaps I will post a story. I've got this crazy fantasy in my head of a whole new sort of presidential candidate. Perhaps I will follow the presidential elections with my imaginary candidate participating in debates. More to come.

Newly-found Freetime: The Plan

Okay, so my last post was a bit of a sob story. Clearly, I have a lot of new free time opened up by lack of Scrabble. I should probably devote it to applying for jobs, but that's a bit depressing, so instead I'm making other plans.

First things first, when I get bummed out, I get into the kick of creative writing. I've still got a lot of research to do to work on my novel, so I think I will focus on the blog idea I had a while ago. (If you're a potential employer reading this, don't worry, I don't want to be a novelist, so I won't quit a job you might give me so that I can market a book someday).

My main complaint about this current blog is that it's sort of random babble. It's not really very meaningful for people who aren't friends invested in my life. It's my outlet since I live 5 hours away from my family, and my friends are even further away. I get to feeling isolated from people.

Back to the new blog though. Some time ago, I had the idea to create a blog of what I call "speculative responses." I would write flash speculative/science fiction in response to articles I read. I would also include brief summaries and links to articles. It's the way I like to engage with ideas--creatively.

I've always worked on longer works, so developing flash fiction will probably be rough for me at first, but I really want to get this going.

In the spirit of that, I'm going to start reading more interesting articles. My subscription to Scientific American Mind should start appearing soon, so I should be able to get some fuel there. I have the original story idea sparked by an article from the Atlantic.

Right now, I'm reading stuff in New Scientist, currently "The Hocus Pocus that Made Quantum Theory Work." I will admit  this particular magazine is often a bit too hard science to get me thinking because I prefer to engage with the social implications of ideas. I won't be writing any hard science fiction.

Mostly, I get my ideas from stuff I find on Twitter. My twitter feed just sort of hands all sorts of interesting articles to me. I just need to use my reading to spark some creativity, then I need to actually apply that creativity. Time to get lost in my own imagination since I'm not enjoying my reality right now.

Tutoring Day 1

So communication about tutoring yesterday (Tuesday) was a flop. The previous tutor called the group and let them know we'd be meeting, but I forgot to send a reminder, and then when I did, I think I sent it to the wrong numbers (I have 2 sets). End result--no one showed up.

D forgot her book, and she lives far away, so she didn't make it. I still haven't heard from C. M remembered after I sent a text, so she showed up late, and then we had an awesome time.

Of the three, M's English is the poorest, although I think it's still good. She has no problem just taking off in Spanish, and it was fun because even though I missed most of what she was saying, I caught an enjoyable amount with the help of the limited Spanish knowledge I have and with my French. She's hilarious and I like her a lot. It will be a good opportunity for me to build my Spanish while I help others with English.

I feel a lot better about this tutoring thing having met M. She's outgoing and out-spoken, and it's good for me because I can be a bit shy. D is also shy, so I think between the two of us, tutoring wouldn't be that productive without M to draw us out. She's just awesome.

We have a textbook and workbooks to go through, and they're helpful for building vocabularly and practicing elements of grammar, but I kind of think this group is ready to step up. I might ask them if they want to do the textbook one day a week and the other day we can work our way through a novel and talk about it. D wants to work on her writing, and M told me she likes to write as a hobby, so we could write responses, and perhaps do some creative writing too.

I'm excited.

Writing, Baking, Pawning Books

It's going to be a busy Saturday. At least, that's the plan, but I never accomplish half of what I want to on Saturday. Sunday seems to be much more productive for me. It's probably because I am a procrastinator to my core.

Today starts with a bit of sad news. I think my parakeet Holmes is sick. He was balled up and shaky, sitting in his furry little blue house this morning. He never sits in the house -- I think he can tell it was the favored spot of his predecessor. He didn't acknowledge me when I sing-songed his name, and his response when I lightly tapped his cage was not his usual enraged panic. He's generally startled and irritated all at once when I catch him off guard. He just sort of meandered around to face me this morning.  I'm hoping it's that the apartment is ungodly cold this morning. I'm in a sweater and wrapped in a blanket. I've also noticed this apartment is alarmingly moist for living in near-desert climate. That worries me for my Australian native bird--the moisture.  If he doesn't perk up later, we'll head to the vet.

Then before finishing this post, I got distracted with Youtube videos from new discoveries Danny Tieger and Julia Nunes. Julia is really talented. I love the pairing of her voice with ukulele. See First Impressions for a sampling. Danny's voice is not as great, but his lyrics, his daring, and his presentation completely make up for it and make him unique. See The Gollum Song and My Universe Revolves Around You for his clever wit. I'm also a big fan of Ode to Pollster.

Now that I've finished being sucked around Youtube by the vortex of curiosity. I'm going to go to the store to get things for baking a red velvet cake and zucchini cornbread. The cake is a practice run for my sister's bridal shower. The zucchini bread is for daily snacking of which I commonly partake.

Then, I need to focus on writing a short story for the new blog I have intended to start for weeks. When I finish that, I will read Dune. I've never experienced this sci-fi classic from Frank Herbert before, and it took me a bit to get engaged, but I love it. I don't think I have Netflixed all week because of Dune.

I also wanted to take some books to the used bookstore to get them out of my living room, but I don't think I left enough time today.

Ready to Be Productive

So, I finally finished watching all of Lost. I thought the conclusion was a bit lame, but really, I'm somewhat impressed they had the guts to go with that sort of ending because it's hard, and most people go for the other endings because they are easier to do. So kudos to the Lost people for being brave.

I have been playing Epic Mickey, which I think is a cool game, but it turns out that I really don't have the stamina to complete a whole game. I am bored, and I am ready to be reading and writing again. It's good that I got that out of my system while my Blockbuster subscription was still in trial mode.

I have been reading The Female Man by Joanna Russ. It's a weird book, and it's only like 200-some pages, but it's been taking me forever to read. I'm starting to really get into it (at 170 pages in). I'm in reading mode again. Forget TV and video games.

I've been re-plotting my novel in my head for my most recent change in plan-of-action (this is the 3rd major change in the focus on this novel). I also need to make a research plan/book list to help in developing it. I can do some of the early revision now, but I really need to do some serious reading before I can get a more solid new direction. I have been working on this novel for over 7 years now. It needs to be finished.

Coffee, etc. and Writing

Last night I dreamt of the most amazing coffee ever, but I don't remember what coffee brand I was told when I asked. The only coffee I can think of after said dream is at Harry's. They should serve breakfast. Of course, I couldn't afford that breakfast, but it would be good.

Speaking of budgets. I am packing a sandwich bag of cereal, a small bottle of milk, a bowl, and a spoon for my lunch today. Classy.

To the Write-in! Hours of quiet productivity where everyone is too scared to talk because they don't want to stress anyone out. It's the perfect atmosphere for productivity. Also, Rachelle makes/brings great snacks that are usually healthy. Take that crappy cereal lunch!

Also...I tried a different coffee this week, and it's weak. I will avoid Eight O'Clock in the future. Gonna buy fancy mountain coffee when I move. Hooray! I will say that Eight O'Clock coffee, while I have a hard time getting it to brew strong enough, is not an overly bitter coffee, which I like. It's a good flavor, I just can't seem to get it to brew dark enough for my tar-liking tastes.

Reading Instead of Writing

So I keep just starting at my writing project. I set aside all homework on Thursday so that I could just finish my project and stop worrying about it. Come Friday, I had revised 7 pages and 1 new one, and I still had a lot of work today.

I need to turn this project back into a conversation I enjoy having and make it less of a nightmare where I can't find the words I want and don't know where to start. So I'm doing some quick research about Pullman's work so that I can get into some more conversation. I'm also going to reread Naomi's articles. Hopefully this works and by this evening I will be writing new material at a regular pace.

I am so ready for summer and novel writing.

I Decided to Take a Job

When I first heard that the Division of Wildlife job would be available around the time that I finish grad school, I thought I would save it as a last resort. I decided to go for it, but not even as a last resort. I think it's going to be a much better option than anything else.

1. I already know the job.
2. They've increased the pay.
3. They're transitioning to a new CMS, so I won't get bored because there's an extra challenge.
4. The natural gas industry in the area has shut down, so rent is affordable.
5. Barring workshopping for classes, I haven't spent as much time on my novel as when I worked there before.
6. It's far enough from home.
7. It will give me time to look for more long-term jobs without worrying about a writing project.

The 6 month thing is a bit of a nuisance for signing leases and whatnot, but I'm ready to indulge in all the things I like. Grad school has been very limiting.

It Hasn't Been that Great of a Day

Well, it just hasn't. I've had a knot of tension in my stomach all day, even though it really should be a good day. My students had a great time with Legos, and Indian Children's Lit had better discussion than we've had most of the semester. I finished reading Tech Comm reading for the week, too.

I still need to crank out a response paper for tech comm material I am just not invested in. I also really need to finish my writing project. The newest draft is onto a 17th page though, catching up to where I was on the previous version.

What I really want to do right now is revise my short story. Why is there no time? Lame. Back to my response paper.

Also...here is a song for the day. It's an odd song for an odd day. My roommate says it's creepy and melancholy, and she's right, but for some reason I find it very catchy and enjoy it even when I'm chipper. I know; I'm a freak.

Today is Gonna Be a Good Day!

So today really is going to be a good day, even though Wednesdays are my long day.

1. I got out of the shower and popped on my headphones to listen to a little ipod. The first song to come on was Priscilla Ahn's "A Good Day."

2. My class and I are going to play with legos today. They'll be spending 15 minutes to build what they want, and then they have to write instructions for what they built.

3. I finished another book for Indian Children's Literature last night. It was good. Here's my Goodreads assessment of it:
The River by Rumer Godden
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I love the protagonist Harriet. She's motivated me to write again.
View all my reviews


4. I wrote a short story last night. It needs a lot of work still, but it seems like when I'm going crazy I just need to write, and The River's Harriet really got me going, so I wrote instead of doing homework. It was nice, and I feel on top of the world.