More in the Middle

Yesterday, the new semester started.  Wait.  Actually, tomorrow marks the start of the fifth week of the semester.  What the heck?  How did that happen?  I'm assuming I must have missed a time warp in September because there is no way October begins tomorrow.  Excuse me while I stomp my feet and shake my fists at the universe for allowing time to pass so dang quickly.

I guess I should have known we'd breezed out of the beginning and into the middle based on how swamped and frazzled I am.  Forget about writing or editing or anything other than just getting through the day right now. 

The Long Run

With my mom's arthritis, she'll never run even a half a mile with me, but last week, I carried her for five. No, more like I took her for four, and she pushed me to go one more. Because of course, that's what mom's do.  Maybe it's all the talk about the American Dream in the convention speeches the past few  weeks, but I was thinking a lot about this whole life journey on my run that day.  There's no simpler way to say it.  My mom's childhood sucked.

Don't ask her about it because she doesn't want to talk about it.   Among other things, they called her dirty.

A little dirt never hurt anyone, and in my opinion, it's a sign of good play. Of course, they weren't really talking about the mud on a cheek. It was a deeper mess. Caked on so hard, maybe it never really comes off even with vigorous scrubbing.  No, I imagine no matter how far she traveled from that childhood, she always carried that dirt with her, a heavy burden.

My Summer Vacation

The end is a matter of hours away.  I know I've said I love beginnings, so I'm sure I will be excited once I walk into my classrooms tomorrow.  However, that doesn't mean I like the fact that summer is over.  This was a particularly good one for a couple of reasons.  First, I'm a college professor which means I'm not on contract, but typically, that doesn't mean much for me.  This year, I took it more seriously, doing next to nothing for work.  Second, I stepped back from my lists and goals and just lived a lot.  I had so much fun.

Now, of course with the end about to smack me upside the head, I feel guilty. I didn't do enough. I revised my goals too far in the other direction, and now I'll never get it all done.  Doesn't matter that many items on my to do list are arbitrarily placed there by me.  I still feel like I failed.