Just sent the last packet of writing off for the semester, so that’s pretty much it, right? I mean, I won’t owe any revisions, no annotated bibliographies, no more essays due until some time in August, these were the last pages I’d be sending in for a while.
Well, except for the stuff I have to pull together for the end of the semester filing with the program office. And all the reading I want to get caught up on. Not to mention the workshop with all it’s annotations and whatnot.
Sheesh, it’s only the end of the first semester (barely), not like the end of school. Except that it is June, and there is that end-of-school vibe in the house with the girls. Only a month until the 4th of July and our first tentative steps moving to our new place. Five weeks from the beginning of the new residency. The end of one thing and the beginning of everything else, one door closes and a hallway full of doors appear.
I’m feeling… okay. Tentative. I didn’t finish the MG novel this semester, but after three false starts I don’t see how I could have. I like the new version and am looking forward (dream away buddy-boy!) to working on in for the next month. Maybe I can have it done by the next rez! Anyway, I thought I finally groked the short essay form in terms of appropriate scope and style (now watch me get torn to shreds!).
So what else is left? I have at least two dozen books waiting for review, a neglected blog looking for some posts, boxes to pack in advance of the move, and lots of goofy little observations I’m dying to delve into.
But right now I think I just want to veg out on the couch for another hour.