Sipping iced coffee. Put ice in the coffee I made last night, in the tumbler. Class in a bit over an hour.
Went for a 4-mile run, and feel off. I need to run in the morning, period. Have to force self, and forcefully, with a true and renewed and imbued force.
Family outside, ready for their walk. And me, readying my journal for notes, offerings on essays and stories from life… their lives and mine. Me a part-time professor or instructor, teacher or whatever I’m to be called but anymore I don’t care. This could be the last semester, ever. President of the school cancelled physical classes through Fall. So it’s possible a student many not again see campus till January 2021, or later. Makes me sick. Make me unexpectedly angry. Makes me want to celebrate, have the rest of that champagne in the fridge.
Done with it. Going to be 41 this year, and the part-timer thing…. I’ve just outgrown it.
Coffee, much better when it’s cold. Not that weird not-hot-anymore degree. Would sip again, but I can already feel it working and I don’t want any trembles or quakes.
Heard email alert…. Wonder what student that was, what excuse. One thing I definitely won’t miss… the excuses, the stalling, the knowing I did the same fucking thing when I was their age, when I was at the JC. And SSU. And, yes, in my Master’s program.
Jack’s on the patio playing some interactive game with one of his oldest friends, where she can see his face and he hers. He’s telling her which way to go, and I’m trying to get acquainted by listening but am lost…. Who can blame me, Jack giving directions, yelling at his friend and I can hear his voice echoing off the houses around us. “No…. GO STRAIGHT. Turn around…. Now go left… LEFT!”
Snacking on cracked-pepper crackers. Not exciting, but sufficing. Not at all exciting. And shit, these are spicier than the last time I had some. Need a beer. But I just ran… so what.