September 8, 2009

Confession Tuesday

I confess that I have a deadline on Thursday and I'm irrationally stressed about it. The article is almost done; if I didn't have to go to the day job today, it would probably be done this afternoon. Really it just needs one more read-through, and then making sure I've met all the formatting requirements that seem to change for each publication. But I'm nervous anyway.

I confess I'm still adjusting to my teacher training schedule, and while I'm close to having everything under control, it's not quite there yet. Yesterday, the teacher training class was canceled for labor day, and while the studio was otherwise open for business, I skipped the other classes I would normally have attended in order to just get some space. Instead, I spent a quiet evening writing, and I think that did wonderful things for my stress level.

I confess I'm struggling to make time to meditate and that's only adding to my worries.

I know this will pass. These little rough patches happen all the time, and I always get through them. I know this will work itself out soon, probably within two weeks. But it's frustrating to be in the thick of things, even when you can see your way out.

In other news, I confess that I really want one of these. Nice specs, and not made by Amazon or Sony (both companies that I dislike for a variety of reasons). I kind of feel like a literary sellout wanting one, but that doesn't alter my interest. I would love to digitize all the literary journals I have lying around, put them on the Cybook, and then decrease my clutter.

And I confess that while I'm thrilled about the upcoming film version of Where the Wild Things Are, I'm less thrilled to find that Dave Eggers is writing a novelization of sorts that will serve as a tie-in to the movie. Maybe I'm being irrational, but that just feels like too many levels of remediation for me. Does the story really need to be rewritten for an adult audience? I still enjoy the book very much, and I'm probably twenty years older than the target audience. Of course, I can just not read the Eggers novel - simple as that.

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