Later in the day, putting self in professor mode.  The way the Nurse is a nurse, I am a professor.  I use that word humorously of course, but one of literature, the pen, page, expression written, poetry, reading, making one’s self better through words penned inwardly and outwardly.

Call in 26 minutes.  Will log on early as I always do.  Putting myself back in the classroom.  First thing I would ask, often, is what is your story today.  So I ask myself today, naturally… write up a mock lesson plan for the next hour, seriously.  Associated text is On The Road, which probably shocks no one.

Still, writer, human,  needing new experiences.  That NEWNESS.  Craving, truest of identities and communications, messages in any direction.

I need to get back to education, somehow.  Not relying on the institution like the Nurse advised.  Rereading Lawson’s Furiously Happy.  Thought about Coelho’s Alchemist, but meh.  Too over-quoted many times bumpersticker, or meme.

After a recent low for this writer, I’m aggressive in my joy and gratitude.  This takes on much of this New Comp idea and its architecture.

Writing for self – for love and happiness, health, gratitude, all things similar.

Thinking to myself, “How do I want to be a professor, NOW??” I had my image and visual in 12th grade, and when teaching 2006-2021.  But what about now?

No, I don’t want to grade papers, as I told the Nurse.  And have no reservation saying that?

Then how can you be a college professor?

‘Cause I can, and I fucking am.  And I’m not grading ANYTHING.  Instead, I want to share ideas with other writers and readers.  With anyone wanting more for their life, for their story…. People that want to use language and self-reflection and introspection to compose new attitude architecture.

I WILL acquire this new “teaching” life, and it will materialize sooner rather than later.

This, is the content of content of my person.  Moving……..