I’m probably not as nervous about it as I *should* be.
What I AM nervous about is the three-part essay final that I just delivered to my Shakespeare professor. I especially nervous because she recommended me to a colleague for an MFA in Literature program.
Even on a good day, she feels
bereft. Alone. Hunted and haunted.
Her head is a circle of eyes,
each staring in a different direction.
All of them blind.
If there is anything to see, she doesn’t know.
She cannot lift her chin from her chest to find out.
When requested or required to speak in class
there is a rabbit-thump reverb in her voice.
Skyrocketing towards stroke.
If it is noticed, she doesn’t know.
She is too busy berating herself for the fear.
There is too much.
Too much noise, too much silence.
Too much light and absence of same.
It is far too loud, bright, dim, quiet.
Buses and stairs are a problem.
Empty, they are menacing.
Full, they are the same.
Each startled jump
makes her even more self-conscious
and more likely to do it again.
The whole thing is a product
of her own imagining.
She looks at her works,
her grades, her thoughts, her words.
The story they tell seems obvious
to everyone but her.
It will pass.
It will get better.
This will all become common and safe.
It has happened before.
It will happen again.
Sorry for the absence, my droogies. For the last week(ish), I have had an out-of-town guest staying with me. It has been lovely. And time-consuming1!
Of course, just as soon as she left, LifeTM vigorously reasserted itself. So much to do. So little time to get it setup. Sleep might well be a thing of the past. Further? I suspect that I may never get caught up on either my email or the other bloggers I follow.
On the plus side, it does look like I get to go to both Summer I and Summer II. There really is no down side other than the knowledge that this summer is going to be crazy busy.
I have thirteen hours scheduled2, woohoo! I am not insane; I promise. They are split two classes per section.
And HOLY MOTHER OF … well. University (as opposed to community college) is expensive. Let’s just say that I’ve paid that much for a lousy car.
Between classes, my get-in-shape-for-a-cruise plan, The Girl’s schedule (camp and going to various grandparents), bi-weekly gaming sessions, writing my blog3 , writing my fiction, and hopefully(!) going to a convention or two – whoa. Yeah. Crazy.
I feel like I am standing at the very tippy-top of a rollercoaster, looking down the hill and wondering what I have gotten myself into. It’s exciting. It feels a bit dangerous. I love it.
Oh, baby! You know what I am talking about.
1 – In a good way. For instance, on at least two occasions, it was near dawn when we looked up and thought, “Hmm. Perhaps we should shut up long enough to go get some sleep.” 2 – For the curious: American Lit Before 1865, Ethics and Society, Psychology of Persuasion, and Spanish II.
3 – I also hoping to to do a couple of blog challenges – where I try to write every day. I don’t know if I can pull it off. But, I seriously want to try.
The Process 