Actually, it hasn't been a bad week. So why do I feel so fragile?
The blog entry I drafted Wednesday night sounded fussy and petulant. I abandoned it.
Last night, after spending too long trying to resuscitate Wednesday's blithering, I gave up.
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I am coming to the close of the semester.
Notably, I am still loving all seven of the classes I teach.
Most years I am in break-up mode with a least a few classes at this point!
Let's call this a win.
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How can I record this strangest of times? When I type out the COVID numbers, I feel like an automaton. When I write about the classroom, I vacillate between Pollyanna rah-rah and let's-all-give-it-up.
Is it possible to be living authentically in contradicting thoughts and spaces?
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Friday morning now: Monday-Friday-Monday-Friday my husband and I often say to each other as weeks fly by.
I have never wanted to wish my life away. That is still true.
But I'm oh so tempted to wish away these weeks/months of sameness before the world can access the vaccine and emerge from our year of hibernation.
Enough.
Be well.
Write.
Allison
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| Mr. Wolf Hoegh |
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