Adjunct cell. Planning. In NO mood to teach. But I drink the coffee in the tumbler, the same coffee I made last night, yes. Could use some more, actually, one of those iced coffee drinks from the bookstore, but that means I’d have to walk all the way over there. No interest in doing that. No interest in being in that bloody heat.
Again, have to entertain myself in class, make sure I have a good time then the students will. Or, should. Have to record grades still, print out a poem (Dickinson, I’m thinking), jot down a couple more thoughts. Seriously just not in the mood. Have to snap out of it, and NOW. So… that Dickinson poem… Printed. Just walked into the conference room to get to mail room, department chair there, I say hi he barely acknowledges. And that’s just my point. Onward…..
Here in the cell, I celebrate that this will be the last Summer I teach. And Fall, I’m hoping to only teach one class. Or none. Would love to be on the Road by then and lecturing fucking everywhere on writing and blogging, on story telling, about my book and my blog— Getting up more than early tomorrow morning. Going to be a long bloody day, to be sure… Hot in the cell, unexpectedly. Is the AC working? Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s busted. It’s gone down before.
Printed role sheet, saw chair again, not a word, not even a “Hey Michael, how’s your class going?” And yeah, he always calls me ‘Michael’. Hate that….. Still have to record grades and post plan to blog, then prep some other questions for class, again to make it fun for them, yes, but myself as well.
In an adjunct cell, but soon I’ll be aloft, free, traveling.