I wish I could indulge in the cliche about not knowing where the time went, dear me! but that would be an untruth. I know exactly where May went. I also know June would be on its way to joining May as the second month with no post, except there's a pile of dishes in the sink that I don't want to deal with, and stabbing out a post on the iPad on the somewhat attitudinal bluetooth keyboard from ThinkGeek seems like a better option.
I read and assessed 300 college entry essays last week, in addition to the 46 student essays I had to read and grade. It's been a very long 9 days of extended reading and sitting and here I am STILL reading and sitting, rather than doing those dishes. I really hate dishes.
The house is halfway packed. There's a great deal more detritus (I love that word) that needs to find its way outside. Sadly, that detritus includes several boxes worth of old SF paperbacks and assorted books. I have decided it's time to let the bookcases from college go, in all their fake wood veneer and particle board glory. And since the upcoming apartment is about 100 sq. feet smaller than the current digs, we won't replace the shelves. We're also losing the built-in bookcase in the living room. That, I will mourn. But only a few of the residents of *those* shelves aren't coming with. Gamebooks, people. It's all about priorities... and if I can get it in ebook, it can go away. If I can't, or the size matters (hush), then we keep it. But we are getting movers--not to pack, but to transport. We acquired some grownup furniture, and it's heavy, and I am not inclined to go it alone, just the two of us. Been there, done that, over it. Let someone else deal with the stairs.
I kinda like purging the excess stuff. I don't like being owned by things. I hate the boxing part, but not as much as dishes.
There has been shit going down at work that I will not detail here because sometimes, there are things you don't write down. The injustice really tweaks me. My powerlessness in the face of that injustice flat out pisses me off.
I think I am teaching Beowulf next fall, and that makes me happy. Of course, my copy (the Heaney translation) is in a box right now. I might use this as an excuse to get another edition on ebook. Can you ever have too many Beowulfs? I don't think so. Of course the students will not immediately see the value in reading a 2000 year old skaldic poem, but that's half my fun, right there. My new course director told us to teach something we love, and if we love it, our student will too. So on va voir.
The dishes are not doing themselves. Damn dishes.
I am almost through the 4th season of Mad Men and I'm still not certain I understand the devotion.
Mini donut makers are awesome, supersceded only by the mini donuts they produce. Aebleskiver, you may be in trouble.
Pooka just came through, either yowling for his supper or practicing echo-location. I suspect the former, since he walked head first into my chair. I may borrow his technique and go back and yowl at Nous, and see if that prompts him to come out here and get on that dinner thing. Or that dishes thing.