Week of All the Real Things

Standard

This week I am writing for real. I am writing what will (eventually) be graded and handed back to me with legible or not scribblings. What a lovely thing to have exceptional people read the writings of unexceptional people. (For now, I fall into the latter category).

I also just had a very real coffee poetry doodling session with my favorite poets, and all of this has made me certain that I will make it into next week without even the slightest remorse for time spent during this one.

Here are the specifics: tonight, after writing and researching the Native American presence in Montana, I will eat dinner and then hear GT in his new acapella group (finally). Tomorrow I will have a session about collaboration between writers and artists with the magnificent Robert Crawford. And obviously doing circuits at the gym that will make me embarrassingly sore because I have turned into a block of flab. Saturday will be dedicated entirely to writing nonfiction bits and pieces and editing fictions bits and pieces. By Sunday I will hand this writing to a compatriot who will hand me her work in exchange and we will ravage each other in an entirely nonsexual way.

There may be church Sunday, because how long has it been? Or maybe running with XC, which is also spiritual, but different, right?

On Monday I will make my edits and beg someone to give me more feedback before I print and submit by Tuesday. Also on Monday, I am drinking coffee. Tuesday is for a final class in which I present on that book “This Is Not About Me,” which is a big lie because it is all about her and Tuesday is also for a fancy dinner. (Seriously, it’s a Dean’s Court black tie event…sexy). And I will have my nails done. (Double sexy). (Yeah).

At some point I will have packed and on Wednesday morning, at some ungodly hour, GT will drive me to the train station and I will begin the six hour train ride to precede a one hour subway ride to precede a seven hour plane ride before NYC envelopes me and I take another train for an hour and end up at my sister’s with two babies to kiss and cuddle before they’re sent to bed. That’s a lie. They’ll almost certainly be in bed before I get there. But I will see them in the morning and they’re a lot of fun in the morning, so that’s ok.

I am lucky.

Advertisements

12 responses »

    • Yeah, everything’s weird here, so I don’t even really know what’s real or not. But I don’t mind because there’s a decent latte around the corner that I can get at certain times of day for 1 pound, which is exceptionally fabulous.

  1. Oooh! Oooh! Could I get in on this switching of pieces? I’m guessing you’re doing it with Louise?? I value both of your critiquing opinions. And opinions in general. All opinions, all the time.

  2. good luck with your writing. I’m rewriting and editing my book while being a hsuband, father and employee. Some days I get nothing done.

    sad face too

I Will Definitely Read What You Write Here

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s