It’s been a busy week. It feels like I haven’t had a day off since the summer started. Between applying for jobs and starting a one-month intensive course, there hasn’t been much time for me to enjoy the first week of summer. Next week, I start a week-long job marking exams, while still having to juggle the commitment I made to my coursework.
It was a single email and a whim that changed the direction of my summer. Up until about two weeks ago, I was expecting a summer full of time. Then, I was invited to a mark standardized provincial exams. For a few bucks, sure, I’ll do it. After that, I thought about what I want my career to look like and decided that taking a course might help me pursue that direction. Now, I’ve not left the apartment for nearly a week.
If things continue like this, I won’t leave until a week from now, when I have to make my way across town to do some marking. Glorious.
I’m not entirely upset with how my July looks. It’s good for me to have something to do. Without some sort of structure, I fall apart. Last year, I think, I had to see a chiropractor about two weeks into summer to put my bones back into alignment. I need an externally imposed structure.
Tonight, I decided to take a short break from my coursework and work on a project that I’ve had in mind for nearly a year, my Collection of Recollections. It felt great to sit down at my typewriter for a couple of hours and just write. While I feel like I’ve lost a lot of direction, I’m still glad I was able to return to a project that I want to finish. Too often, too many of my projects end up in the ether.
One other thing that I’ve been doing is writing “Morning Pages”. Every morning, I commit to writing three pages in a stream-of-consciousness way. I’ve been using my new iPad to do this, and it seems to be working out well. Of course, I’m lucky to have the time to do it, with it taking me nearly an hour, and three cups of coffee, each morning. If I had somewhere to be, I doubt I could fit this exercise into my routine.
There’s something fascinating about writing to me, and I’m a bit upset that I can’t explore it more deeply. Yet. For me, writing has an unbelievable reach. Words written and unspoken can be so loud. Read or unread, the words exist on their own.
Without something to do, I’m afraid, I likely wouldn’t be thinking about what else I want to do. So, instead of doing it, I’ll write about it.