I am

 

I am a collector of textile goods, a trailer of fingers through pots of herbs, a soup aspirationalist. A dog hurrier. An available-ist. A plotter of baroque revenges. A breakfast eater, a sleep wrangler. A book misplacer.  A closet stuffer and a crossword incompletist. A shrimp-hog, arugula hound, fig hoarder, peach eater. A handbag dissatisfactionist. A pancake and cookie particularist, a stipulator of pie crusts, a magazinist and a syntax smatterer. A movie proficient, television-watching adept, savant of screens. Ceaseless mother, wayward writer, variable teacher. A chaos artist. A foot-pain stylist. A quipper, a miserable-ist and joyseeker.  I am a late lemonader, an every-square-incher. I am a photographer of skies.

If you hire me for this job, I will kick ass and take names.

Last night, I realized that in my own image of myself as an academic administrator--a vice president, say, or a dean, as opposed to a mere faculty member--I would be something like Jesus clearing the moneylenders out of the temple. Except with more swearing. But still righteous.