Where are my pancakes, dude?

Oh, man, I just realized that while I’ve been writing and doing laundry and showering and trying to sit down and write this stupid email, I’ve been feeling antsy, unable to settle to a task for very long, mildly anxious, and keep thinking of things I have to take care of (buy paper towels, write email to independent-study student, pretreat stain on the Snork Maiden’s sweatshirt, send a copy of my book and a note to the people–a former conductor of Stubb’s and his partner–who had us over to their house for dinner two weeks ago, email my NLNRU chair, tinker with the budget, remember to bring cotton balls to AWP to keep the water out of my bad ear when I shower AAGGGHHHH)–

It’s Sunday, and even though I am technically, well, at least 50%, on spring break, I am having Sunday blues/anxiety.  NO FAIR.

I have been fantasizing about taking a cruise this summer with Stubb and the Snork Maiden.  Alaska, maybe, or the Mediterranean, or the northern European capitals.  I have never had one thought about taking a cruise before, ever.  Now I am having wild fantasies about waking up and peeking out the window and seeing nothing but miles and miles of ocean.


One response to this post.

  1. […] panic, the difficulty being in the moment without anticipating the next problem or concern, the Sunday-night feeling of impending doom–might possibly not be the way I have to […]


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