School starts tomorrow, and I’m exhausted, and I’m beating myself up for not getting more done this summer.
Like most people, I have unrealistic expectations about what I can get done on my “breaks,” made all the more unrealistic by the fact that I don’t really have “breaks.”
This summer, I had two weeks, one on each end, in which I didn’t have classes running, but of course those weeks were spent grading the past classes’ finals and preparing for the classes to come.
I didn’t mend all the ripped clothing. I didn’t shrink my New Yorker pile. I didn’t clean out my closets. I didn’t go through the stack of old notebooks on my desk. I didn’t get into the hammock more than a couple of times. I didn’t do my yoga very often . . .
Today, I need to celebrate what I DID do this summer.
I spent my birthday week with Vanessa.
I gave detailed, exceptionally fast feedback to all student assignments.
I taught three courses.
I prepped my fall courses–the first three weeks are ready to go on Canvas.
I spent an afternoon at the beach.
I kept up with sending postcards and bday presents to my friends.
I paid my bills.
I took a long walk almost every day.
I did my physical therapy every week.
I dealt with uterine problem and its associated tests.
I edited part of the next edition of Margaret Atwood Studies.
I kept up with my union’s efforts.
I voted to save California from Larry Elder.
I mentored.
I tried at least one new recipe each week and kept my household fed.
I saw the Van Gogh exhibit.
I did get some reading and viewing done.
I dealt with my frustrating specialty dentist’s office.
I laughed.
I cuddled my kittens.
I started thinking about what some of you are getting for Christmas.
I met my out-of-pocket maximum for my insurance plan and started the long fight to get them to tell my providers that.
I served on two university committees.
I survived one of the most stressful periods in my whole life–and while I’m still not sure how the Department of Education debacle will turn out, I’m in a better place than I was before.
My brain is trying to convince itself that I’ll get the other stuff done in December, on another “break,” when I’ll be coming off a five-course quarter, getting ready for the next quarter, in which I’ll have an intensive surgery, and getting the Atwood journal out.
Here’s my goal between now and then: to convince my brain that my goal for breaks should actually be taking a break.
