Today was the first day of classes, and my first day of teaching four in a row. Let me tell you, people, that is a tired-making thing to do. Standing in front of a room of glassy-eyed undergrads while you explain the course plan, teetering around in heels and feeling too hot in pin-striped trousers and long-sleeved shirt in the unseasonably warm (70 degrees!) New Wye weather, and then doing it again, and again, and A-FUCKING-GAIN, well, that is enough. I won’t even get into the errand-running and grocery-shopping hell that is back-to-school week around these parts. Ugh.
I came home, ditched the shoes and the trousers, poured a glass of wine, threw a handful of cashews down my throat, and then proceeded to basically lie on the couch until I felt vaguely human again. I was so busy I forgot to eat all day, so those cashews and wine were like precious sustenance. On days like this, I feel like my insides have been removed with a giant ice-cream scoop, and the floppy shell of my outsides has been unceremoniously dumped aside. Teaching: it really feeds the soul. And can you believe I have to go in tomorrow to read the stupid play I assigned for Thursday?? What a crock.
What about your research? Do you expect to have time for that at some point?
Where I come from, that sort of question would result in anything between raucous hilarity and weeping. Time for research? Pah.