Update #3

It’s Monday, and RB took the router, but I still managed to squander the day on cooking, errands, and mah jongg.

FAIL.  FAILFAILFAIL.

Update #2

It’s Saturday.   I’m exhausted and over-caffeinated.  I’ve crammed a ton-o-socializin’ in since Thursday night, and I’ve got one more event tonight, too.  It has all been fun and enjoyable (okay, the debate maybe not so much, but the company was lovely) but my people batteries are running low.  Tomorrow I’m going to hole up and recharge and not talk to anyone but the cats.

I’m thinking about napping this afternoon, before my social thing tonight, but I should work.    I’ve written about 5 pages this week (more if you count what I wrote and then deleted), which is good-but-not-great.  But better than it would have been if I’d had unlimited ‘net access.  So I’m going to try to keep up the net-banning, at least a couple days a week.  When I ask him to hide/take the magic box, RB keeps asking “are you sure?  Are You Sure?” I am.  I don’t like writing, but I like having written, and if I have to carrot-and-stick it, well, that’s what I have to do.

And what I have to do right now is work, for at least an hour, so I can earn my nap-carrot.

Update #1

RB has been obliging me by taking our little modem box-thingy, so I can’t use the internet during the work day.  It hasn’t been as hard to go without the ‘net as I thought.  This is a good thing.  The bad thing is that I still am coming up with ways of procrastinating.  I haven’t solved the core problem, I’ve just taken away one of my favorite toys.  That said, I have written more than usual (that is, a couple of pages, so don’t bust out the champagne yet), so I’m planning on keeping it up, at least this week, since work doesn’t need to reach me.  Every step forward is step forward, right?

In other news, I found out that some BS measure that some Provost cooked up late last fall means that I don’t get tuition remission as part of my job anymore.  This was news to me and a number of my colleagues, who were never informed of this change in advance, and are now all WTF? when we get angry letters asking for money.  So, although the national economic crisis means almost nothing to me (since I’m not a homeover and have no retirement or nvestments, etc., now I’m flipping about about digging up some $700+ for the privilege of not taking classes and occasionally e-mailing my committee.

Good thing I already went ahead and bought those fucking awesome boots I wanted.  I had a $50 gift card that was going to expire in October and I didn’t want to let it go to waste.  I’m not wearing them out, since I haven’t finished my chapter, but dude, they are even more amazingly ass-kickin’ than I thought.  I wanted a particular color, so I ended up going with a slightly different style than I originally thought:

Awwwww, yeeaaaahhhh.

 So that’s my news.  What’s up with y’all?

On your mark, get set…

So I survived the weekend-o-socializin’.  It was, almost entirely, good stuff.  I did have to deal with a few MTA issues (hastily jumped on the wrong train once, and once planned on taking a train that was temporarily suspended), and my legs and feet do not like me wearing shoes, especially after a long, barefoot summer.  But still.

Now, I have what is effectively a week off of my job because of Rosh Hashanah, so I’m planning on kicking my own ass between Monday and Friday and trying to crank out some pages and stop feeling so dumb and useless.  And I’m publicizing this intention so as to risk shame in the eyes of others, and using the desire to avoid public censure as a motivation to work. 

Also, I’m going to ask RB to take our modem/cable/T-1/magic internet-making appliance with him to work, so I don’t have the option of pissing the day away on websites, arguing politics and reading clever repartee.

All this to say that my self-control is near exhausted, so I need to revert to other-control.  I will report on my progress if as it happens.  Encouragement, cheerleading, and bribes welcome.

Social Butterfly

You know that butterflies eat carrion and poo and stuff, right?  I’m not that kind of butterfly.  But I do have a full social calendar this week.  I hope I can pause my currently incessant nose-blowing in order to enjoy:

•  A department happy hour tonight, followed by a drink-enhanced musical sing-a-long for a big gay friend’s big gay birthday. 
• Tomorrow’s Debate (or now, Not a Debate, Because McCain is the Cowardliest Coward who ever Cowered) Party w/ some smart wimminz I like a lot and don’t see enough.  I am baking a pie.  RB wants to come, but isn’t invited.
• Saturday night’s super schmancy highrise-terrace cocktail/birthday party for a friend I haven’t seen in far too long.  I have mixed feelings about this event, because I will surrounded by a lot of people I don’t know, and it requires dressing up in like, heels and stuff.  I better get some action if I put in all that effort.
• And Sunday’s long-overdue catch-up afternoon w/ my Flava Fav, which is always a good time.  There Will be Fries.

And next weekend, there’s even more stuff to enjoy!  Schluetermetz is comin’ to town, and then I’m going to see a play (complete with sodomy and baby-eatin’!) with a bunch of people from my department.  And the next weekend I head to Canada.  And then it’s the middle of October and I’ll fall down dead from exhaustion.  Dead butterfly.

Forging Ahead

I’m feeling a little better today.  Probably because RB brought home tissues and OTC drugs a-plenty, and I’ve been trying to get extra sleep.

Meeting w/ my department’s “placement officer” (career counselor dude) and hearing that my curriculum vitae is “quite impressive” and, more importantly “better than it needs to be for where you are in your career” was nice, too.  I’ve been tweaking it a bit tonight, and it’s almost done, which is a relief.  Next:  bother faculty for letters of recommendation to stick in my dossier.

Now, if I can just write this godforsaken chapter that is defying me at every turn…

Feh.

I’m sick today.  My sinuses are filled with concrete, and all I want is to watch The Goonies and have RB brush my hair and say “Oh, my poor girl.  Poor, poor girl” all day long.

That won’t happen, but I’ll enjoy thinking about it as I try to draft a cover letter for a job I won’t get.

Bad Choices I’ve Made This Week.

1.  I made a huge frumpin’ pan of cornbread because I got excited about this recipe.  While it is mighty tasty, I am already sick of cornbread, and there is almost half a pan left.

2.  Without even being asked, I sewed clothes for the self-portrait maquette that RB had to make for one of his graduate classes.  He is perhaps even more of a procrastinator than I am, and while he was making the body and sculpting the face the night before it was due, I dug through our rag bag and my fabric supply and made a teensy long-sleeved white t-shirt and a pair of black pleather pants for him/it.  I should have been working on my homework, but it’s much less fun.

3.  I have spent at least two hours this morning reading blogs and pissing away my time.  The new motivational slogan I have chosen for this semester (“Ain’t Nobody Gonna Do It For Ya”) doesn’t seem to be working so well.

4.  I didn’t call my Mom on Tuesday night to learn about the results of her stress test.

5.  I’ve been putting off a possibly unpleasant discussion w/ RB about how his new school/work schedule doesn’t mean “My contributions to the smooth functioning of our household are no longer necessary!”

ETA 6.  Calling RB on #5 above when he phoned me to say “I’m going out to X w/ friends tonight,” when we’re hosting a childhood friend of his and her husband tomorrow night.  Ugliness ensued.   This ain’t over, folks.

Big sigh.

I’m home again.  Got back last night, and the lovely Robot who lives with me made me dinner, drew me a bath, and gave me a footrub.  I was glad to be home, but that made it even better.  It also helped me ignore the various “duh” things he ignored for a week (watering plants, putting away the last of the stoop-sale stuff from TWO WEEKS AGO, etc.). 

I’m exhausted today, with no energy to regale the internet with any of a number of ridiculous tales or cute photographs of my very sweet nephew, and no caffeine in the house to help me fake my way through it.  Soon, soon.  And then I’ll need to get rocketing off on planning the next trip (blissfully short, that one).

Today is a post-travel hangover day, intended for unpacking and catching up on mail, napping, eating healthier food than I’ve had in a week, and figuring out what to do with the 3 pounds of tomatoes we got from our CSA.

It was mostly a good trip (mom’s ER fiasco and my brother’s explosive temper notwithstanding), and I got a huge amount of research done that I’ll need to turn from scrawly notes into processed, usable text, but that’s well-begun, if not half done.  More news to come, friends.

Yeah…no.

I’ve opened up the “write post” window about five times today, but my dissertation writer’s block seems to have migrated over here.  I’ve spent too many late nights, eaten too much rich food, and been worrying about too many friends to write about anything recently.  My head is pounding, my TMJ is acting up, and I’m up to my neck in crap I never should have let into the house. 

It’s cold, and there are wolves.

Possible topics for the future:  Passive Agression, What Makes An Adult, and The New Bag (and What’s In It).

Please dance in comments for my amusement.