spynotes ::
  September 20, 2004
On edge

It's been one hell of a day. This illness thing sucks big time. Just when the kidneys started to improve, I got a horrendous cold that has left me wheezing and hacking like a terminal lung cancer patient. Just when I was beginning to regain the functionality of my nostrils, some horrific intestinal thing hit and I've spent much of the afternoon in the bathroom. I�d say I was feeling better now, but then I�m pretty sure I�d be attacked by a mysterious cloud of locusts. Or maybe frogs.

My poor husband�s patience with my Camille impression gave out today, which led to me having a total freakout moment of the I-don�t-know-how-to-handle-being-a-mom-and-a-job variety, which really had more to do with the fact that I haven�t had a decent night�s sleep in over a week and that I was hopped up on decongestants. Really, harriet, you need to pull yourself together.

I may be out of commission for the next couple of days as I�ll be attending a two-day teaching seminar. I�m hoping this will quell my anxieties about teaching and an academic career in general, although I realize those anxieties may just as easily be fueled by the fact that I may quite possibly be one of the oldest students in the room. The university is so oblivious to the fact that one of their student teachers might live far away or have a child that they didn�t announce the schedule INCLUDING THE START TIME (caps intended to denote total incredulity) until this morning. Hello? Ever hear of a babysitter? Well, of course, neither have we. But it�s the whole principle of the thing. Academia is not very friendly to women with children. I need to remind myself of that and make sure this is still where I want to be. I�m also worried about all of these young, eager, single graduate students who can throw themselves into it all. I worry about them because I was one and I know there is no way I can keep that kind of schedule now. Right now I feel like I�m doing everything half-assed. And I�d really like to be using my whole ass. (Bring it on, google).

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