Why I hate the end of the academic year
- The huge mounds of grading I'm so behind on.
- My utter bewilderment about the paleography class I'm taking.
- Not having a steady job lined up for the summer and getting vague, passive-aggressive, and otherwise less-than-helpful replies from former summer employers.
- Spending $700 to repair my truck enough even to prevent further damage while storing her in my garage.
- The estimates of how much more it would cost to make her driveable in the long term, either for myself or for anybody else, if I sold her.
- The very real possibility of going into the summer with no savings at all.
- How badly I'm doing at the dojang right now.
- Many friends who are having a hard time of it, one way or another, and my inability to do much of anything about it.
- Exhaustion so advanced that I will sleep through an entire night and half a day given the opportunity, then wake up to realize how screwed I am because I wasn't working, rather than sleeping, for the past six hours.
- And, much the worst of all, that Boy Roomie will have to have surgery and may have to move out as a result.
I am trying to focus on how fantastic it is to have a fellowship and travel money next year. I also am trying to burn into my memory how deeply awful it always is to go into the summer not having any idea how I'm going to pay my rent, as well as how awful it is to have so little stability. Because if I can keep that in mind next year while I have more time to get work done, I may be able to remember why it's absolutely vital to get my ass out of bed in the mornings to write.