And to all a good night.

The facts, part 2.

Another round of The Sevens, this courtesy of 31 Flavors:

1. I hope to live in France for an extended period of time before I die.
2. I truly believe that if I wrote every day, played the piano every day, and made my bed every day, I might be a happier, better person.
3. My idea of nirvana is the Routine--something like writing every day from x a.m. to x a.m., playing the piano for an hour, etc. Somehow work has to fit in there too, I guess. Maybe this Routine is all about the summer. Also, all about the sabbatical.
4. "Sabbatical" is one of the most beautiful words in the English language. I'm quite certain that it's equally beautiful in other languages, but I will be hoping for a sabbatical in English. Possibly translated into French.
5. I hope to overcome cynicism, despair, and the odds, and have another book, and hopefully more than one other book, published before I die.
6. When you have six kids--nine, if the historian and I add up our kids together--there is always, always something happening in that generation that you have to consider, talk over, worry about until you think you might faint.
7. Yesterday, I slept for four hours in the afternoon. I get worn down sometimes.

Nothing whatsoever to say.

I started a post about gossip (I like it, especially about higher ups).

I considered just cloning Dr. Write's excellent post about important books I've never read (To the Lighthouse, The Prelude, Moby Dick, War and Peace).

I don't have a dissertation draft to share excerpts from (wait: yes I do, two of them! Sample: "Am I overstating? Let us return to literary studies with the critic (and provocateur) Stanley Fish, who makes precisely this point in his essay “Yet Once More.” The title is the first three words of “Lycidas”; it is as a Miltonist that Fish undertakes to remind us of what it is we do when we act as literary critics," etc.).

I've already written about cake this week.

My internet issues are resolved.

30 Rock and The Office were both hysterical tonight.

My agenda is: tomorrow, stash a sword in the drop-down ceiling of my office tomorrow and file a knife in a folder labeled "Mr. A. Knife" (in case of emergency weaponry needs). Tonight: go to bed.