Today, I had a day without meetings or classes, and I figure those aren't going to come around all that often as the semester, nay, the year progresses, so I stayed home to do my work, and as I just now whined to the historian, because the day was entirely mine to shape, and because I had an agenda of things to do, I felt like I could approach the work without too much stress, just proceed at a deliberate but not frantic pace: but as the end of the day drew near, and as I noted the progress I had made on each and every item, I felt even so not a lessening of anxiety but a burgeoning of it:
Lo! the anxiety flowered like a rude, fat dandelion going to seed, and now, look, a puff of wind! and each little piece of anxiety separated and lofted and eureka: ever so much more anxiety! with potential for growth!
I am going to have to figure out how to handle this better. Because I can't even stand myself. It's come to this: vacuuming dust bunnies and sorting shoes and reading the columns in the Oprah magazine. This is what I've retreated to. Luckily there was some bike riding and dog walking
And now, I am going to pick an outfit to wear to the Board of Trustees meeting.