Feeling tired and

hot again.  Getting into shower.  And bed early, not as early as last night but close.  Where’s my Comp Book–  In bag.  I’ll write in that if I wake early.  AND, I must go to work tomorrow, have a session in the loft and accumulate more small standalones, capturing my moments, I need that wood up there, and the voices down on the main floor and whatever they have on tap, and the sight of Jeff’s card deck, left on my seated table.  And honestly, why am I not writing in my Comp Book right now?  This laptop has become an addiction.  Okay, but I won’t abandon this 3pageaday project.  All these commercials on the TV, making me sick, head hurt, and just bored.  Refocusing on my son’s artifacts and articles, his territory: the Empire of JPM.  It’s interesting how he arranges everything without deliberation, just seeing how it looks, and if it works.  He doesn’t overthink, and I’m trying to learn from him and appreciate and change.  Ugh, would love a glass of wine, red, something.  But not tonight, which makes 2 straight no wine nights.  Wish I felt better.  The shower will help.  Can’t wait to see my little Artist, been all day.  Wonder what he saw, what he learned, new sentences he said.  I need to focus on him, and not fear if I’m publishing/posting too much to blog.  There’s never too much, I’m thinking, never.  And if readers or Facebook followers don’t agree with the consistency, they don’t have to read.  Or they can ‘unfriend’ me.  I won’t care.  Ugh, and the next semester approaching, hopefully my last.  The more I research the adjunct matter the more I see academia as peripatetically evil, spanning and reaching and suffocating everywhere.  An article I found in CNN archives calls us working poor…  Yes, he does, Gary Rhoades in his 9.25.13 article “Adjunct profs the new working poor”.  I’ve gone into war mode, and these deans and chairs can’t do a thing to anesthetize my toxic ardor.  I’m ready.