You know what's amazing? When you read a poem by one of your students and realize that you are JEALOUS and wish that you had written the poem yourself. I am going to have to confess this to Sara tomorrow afternoon when we have lunch and talk poetry. Jealous, of all things!
What else can I confess today?
I felt really shady taking this photo of a dismantled something in the building where I teach, but I took it anyway. I'm not sure why I felt so devious, but I did.
I have my office door closed, but my window is open, open, open!
I'm not making dinner tonight. And I am not going to go view and pet adoptable dogs after we go out for dinner tonight. I'm not! No dogs. No. Nary a sniff nor a woof.
I confess that I am never caught up. Are you ever really caught up? I'm not.
I confess that sometimes I must remind myself that having to read poems for the next three hours is not work.
Here I go.
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7 comments:
can you see me blushing from there?
can you believe I have internet access in the middle of the work day?!
Can you see the green jealousy from here in Olin Hall?
Now you have to guess which poem it is. ;)
I think...predictions?
Sometimes I try to buy lines from people. No one's ever taken me up on it, though I've gone as high as a dollar.
Jealousy is the cornerstone of my aesthetic.
Since you are in the business of confessing, I will confess: When I'm behind on work, I hold my bedtime ritual hostage. I can only go to sleep on top of the covers, fully clothed.
Sometimes a whole month will go by of sleeping this way before I actually cross the darned to-do off my list.
Sandra, when I was a grad student I wouldn't allow myself to eat until I read X number of pages. It worked! Maybe I should market this as a new academic weight loss plan...
I like your strategy!
I am jealous whenever I read a good poem. Whenever I read a good anything, really. It reminds me of my own limits and aspirations. A good thing, I guess.
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