So now what? I’m doin’ the work. I’m not a slacker. Dr. Leo Marvin would be so proud. Baby steps to publication. Baby steps to who know where. I’ve done this before. The hard part. I feel like my two-year-old at dinner. I know it’s good for me, and that I actually enjoy eating, but before I even sit down, I must proclaim to the neighborhood how much I hate dinner (and I don’t even know what it is yet).
So I’m here, writing, or at least rambling. I’m putting in my time, just like I said I would…only three more sessions to go, and it’s only Tuesday. Word. Just rambling won’t bring too many fruits, but I think that developing the habit is actually the best thing I can do for myself right now. Put the projects on hold, and just wait until I’ve built back up my flow. I can feel it trying to resuscitate after being throttled by seventh graders who are just a little on the needy side, but I’ve got plans to run the second semester for my 9th graders primarily as a writing workshop. Why? Because I’m sadomasochistic and sick. I’ve got the bug, and I need to infect as many unsuspecting students as possible. Mwa-ha-ha!
I’ll work out the bugs later; I just need to jump back into the pool and soak as many sunbathers as possible. Just think The Sandlot’s Hamilton “Ham” Porter at the pool just before Squints gets his groove on with Wendy Preffercorn. That reminds me— I started a piece at our CUWP institute about a kid on a high dive…wonder where that is…I should finish that one of these days…use it as a scene….
And who said rambling couldn’t be productive?
Cannonball!
Sand Lot and Wendy Preffercorn. Nuf said.
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