Saturday: a discussion.

On Friday nights I always say, 'I'm going to sleep until I wake up.' The fact of saying it, and not setting an alarm, feels luxurious. It feels like Saturday should feel.

That said, what usually happens is I wake up about the same time I usually do. This is especially true right now, because of the light, which streams in the window in the morning.

NOTE on the light streaming in the window, but at night: People who want to tell you how to get better sleep tell you to make the room as dark as possible. I think this is swell advice. But what about the moon? Don't they want to see the moon before they fall asleep?

This morning, as usual, no alarm, but we were still up plenty early. I woke up feeling various aches and I shifted, tried to redistribute them, closed my eyes, and still: awake. I got up and made pancakes, also the breakfast Saturday breakfast should be.

We talked a little bit about the news. No joy there, the people. How did the blowhardiest of all possible blowhards get to occupy so much airspace? I ask you. Talking about that (pardon my language) weasel/tyrant/fascist/awful man is no way whatsoever to begin a Saturday. So I went into my study and graded a student assignment, from all the students. That was satisfying. It purged, at least to a degree, the Drumpf from my Saturday space.

I decided this week that I would go into my office on Saturday for purposes of 'drafting' the 'thing,' which I did not, in fact, get written during the week, thus putting the heat on, so to speak, my weekend schedule.

IN WHICH I INTERJECT AN 'ON THE ONE HAND/ON THE OTHER HAND' DILEMMA: 

On the one hand, going into the office on the weekend is a punishment, almost by definition. What dummy manages to so thoroughly botch the workweek that working on the weekend is necessary? Well, most teachers, for one. And, anyway, on the other hand, I like my office, and going there on the weekend is actually kind of great because there is no one there and the quiet is palpable and lustrous. Also, before I went to my office, I stopped at Target and bought (a) a new tee shirt (irrelevant), (b) a new Tracy Andersen workout DVD, stop me I'm crazy (also irrelevant), and (c) a box of Triscuits (relevant, because:) So I had snacks, including an apple and cheese I carried in my bag. So my office was, it must be said, pretty deluxe this afternoon.

The big giant takeaway of my afternoon session in the office is that I have 'drafted' more than half of the 'thing,' and that felt ultra satisfying. Like, I can do all the difficult things satisfying. Like maybe actually do the Tracy Andersen workouts and make dinner several nights next week and finish the curriculum and do all the grading and triumph over evil and, you know, make sure that a certifiable ASS does not become president of the United States next year. That's how powerful, is what.

I left the office and drove down to meet my mother and sisters for Paint Night. Or, to be precise, Paint Nite, which stages a select painting as an event for gathered people--mostly women--to paint the same picture with the able guidance of a local painter. It was my sister's idea, and it was a dang good one. We had a blast--first we had soup and sandwiches, then we went to a hotel lobby where the event was set up. We painted with acrylics for two hours, totally absorbing and, thus, relaxing.

our paintings of multicolored trees. 

Tomorrow, I will use my powers for good by:

1. putting away my winter sweaters, since there is nothing that makes me feel more like spring is really on its way than putting away my sweaters.
2. 'drafting' the remainder of the 'thing'--I have an outline and momentum.
3. grade some more.
4. finishing the curriculum, ugh, and
5. cooking dinner like a righteous person.

Hashtag the weekend: out.

[679 words]

*IS* it almost the weekend? I think it's almost the weekend.

'You had a good day, didn't you?' the historian posited.

It was a fairly safe bet. Today, we printed some test prints of the broadside we're making for our visiting poet on our Xante printer, just to see how the design looked on the gorgeous Rives paper we are using. Oh my glory, the people. So lovely. I gave hugs to people who, I'm guessing, are not exactly huggers. But we all felt it was warranted.

see? so pretty!

Also, the interview I did earlier this week with WMSU for their program called The Weekly Reader was posted today. It will be aired tomorrow, February 4, at 9:30 a.m., but it's already on their website and will be part of the archives. When I did the interview, I felt it went quite well. And then, of course, I imagined that perhaps I sounded like an idiot, a pompous idiot. I listened to it today and thought, nope. Which was good.

Earlier this week, I also found out that my little talk about creativity--in four metaphors, hashtag fancy--has been posted on YouTube for a month and a half! Well! So it was good to check that out to discover that no, I didn't sound like a pompous idiot there, either. (The evidence is pointing toward a favorable outcome for the ongoing research project entitled 'Am I A Pompous Idiot, Yes or No?')



I got my two workouts in, one first thing in the morning, the second on my way home. Then I rushed home, ate some leftover Mexican food, and hightailed it downtown with the historian for a literary reading, poems by Joel Long and the estimable Lynn Kilpatrick, who arose from her bed of affliction to read a brilliant piece, a crown of prose sonnets related to her ongoing girl who went missing project. Altogether worth it, even though going downtown for a literary reading on a school night means you have to drive home from downtown, and deal with your wrecked, tired self thereafter.

Still:  'The week's nearly over, wouldn't you say?' said the historian.

Well, no, not really. Today when I was driving to work, I had a brief panic over the fact that it was Thursday and tomorrow is Friday, which is Publication Studies day, which is a freaking high wire act every freaking time. But it wasn't Thursday. No, it was Wednesday, all day long, which means that tomorrow--which will be Thursday in fact--is a day on which I can give the Xante print press another whirl, and hopefully hear back from Boxcar Press about the pdf I sent them for their expert eyeballs, and work out twice and get the job done, &c &c and then we all collapse.

THEN it will be Friday, which is the Publication Studies class (high wire act) plus one two three meetings, and THEN it will be the weekend. America! The work week!