And So, We Limp On*

--Yesterday morning, I said, "I haven't felt this tired since grad school."  I have been feeling the mushy-brain kind of tired, the kind of tired where my face aches.

--I feel slightly better this morning, but not fully restored.  I expected to feel that kind of passing Comps kind of ecstasy.  Instead, I feel that end-of-dissertation weariness.

--Why do I feel this way?  At work, we've been preparing for an accreditation visit.  This week, the accreditors arrived.  Late yesterday afternoon, they left.

--I'm happy to report that the initial feedback is good.  We have some things to fix, but everyone expects that.  Does any school ever have an accreditation visit where it is discovered that everything is perfect?  I think not.

--I spent 12 hour days in my office, waiting to be asked questions about my department or to provide any additional information.  As with the last visit, I never saw a team member.  I am not complaining.

--I like to think that my binders were in such perfect order that the team analyzed them and moved on.  I know that someone looked at my binders or at least moved them off the main table.

--And now it's time to turn my attention back to what needs to be done:  annual reviews, some letters of recommendation, and of course, my own writing.  I'm going to send my poetry manuscript out into the world again.  I'm going to contact some agents about my memoir/book of essays.  I'm going to write a poem--before the week-end is over!


*I've taken the title of this blog post from Maureen Corrigan's book, And So We Read On, about The Great Gatsby.  She took her title from the last line of Fitzgerald's book:  "And so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."  At some point, hopefully soon, I'd like to read both books back to back.