Instead, I’ll be working on a few papers and trying to get my kids to the spring-break “camp” where the kids are dumped while I try to catch up with my “profession” work. I call it professional in quotation marks because the truth of the matter is, that if didn’t have to do it, I’d want to. But, the “Imp of the perverse” forces me shun, reject and scorn that which I want to do, need to do and have to do.
Soon, later today I’ll meet with two colleagues and plot out the paper for the hip-hop conference that our college will be presenting later this semester. Watch this space for developments in my thinking. I’ve got some ideas, but since my “feel” for pop culture is set in some vague post Run DMC 90’s misunderstanding, I could use help.
I also want to work on the paper I’ll be giving at the ALA about William Wells Brown and the “fear of writing.” It is from my diss (dissertation, the nickname of which always struck me as reflexive: i.e. “I am dissed”) so much of the groundwork is there, but it needs polishing.
I want to exercise more, and this morning was a wash, since I woke up late (6am) and made no time to exercise before the day got underway.
I want to attack my time away from classes this semester with a club, spear, flint knife, M-16, AK-47 and EFPs. I want to make the most out of my life for the next week. I cannot let my life wash over me like I am some sort of sandbar of existence. I will be the rock.