EDLM—October 1, 2019
I wake up around 7 am in the middle of a weird dream about my best friend S. and me as kids (we’ve been friends since I was 11 and she was 9). In the dream we skipped school and were at her house with no parents, and were there for a really long time—like maybe years. And then we ended up getting caught by the police, and they were interviewing us separately, and going to send us to jail.
I’ve been meaning to call S. for a while, especially since I’ve been having some worries with my dad’s health. But I just haven’t really wanted to talk on the phone, especially since it’s always a long call with her. So, I’m not surprised I dreamed about her, although it was a weird one.
At 7:15 I’m waking up, but groggy. I’m always more groggy when I wake up mid-dream. I figure that I should get moving because I only have about an hour. I grab some of the great lemon pistachio loaf my wife made and some coffee and get ready. I’m debating if there’s time for makeup because I realize I’m actually late and the hour was optimistic, but I decide to do some quickly because it’s a teaching day, after all.
I leave the house in perfect time to get the 8:15 bus, which gets me to work about 7 minutes later. Time to settle in a little before my 8:30 meeting. I wonder what that appointment is since it is a teacher who is concerned about a student paper. In my head, I’m sure it is something racist, homophobic, or otherwise offensive. The teacher comes in and hands me the paper and says to look anywhere and I’ll see the problem. It actually takes me a minute because I’m looking for offensive issues, but the issue is grammar. The teacher says they’ve never seen it so bad. It is bad, weird capitalization, no real punctuation in spots. We talk about how to help the student and try to find out what the issue is. Could be language problems. Could be lack of editing. Could be they typed it on their phone. I’m just happy they aren’t an awful person and that we no longer associate bad grammar with poor morality.
My admin assistant seems in a fun mood today and is singing a song about our challenged printer. We joke around a bit.
Next up, I meet with one of my international students who talks about the challenges adjusting to everything. I reassure him and give him some feedback and advice on the projects for my class. I’m thinking about how I couldn’t even learn any Spanish for my trip this summer, and here he is doing pretty well at graduate school in another country and language.
It’s a bit of a rush to make it to my class after the meetings, especially since it’s not in the same building with my office. I’m concerned about the big deadline I’ve set for my students for Friday, so I ask them how they are feeling about it and if they feel like they need more time. I get some very adamant “no” responses, which surprises me. They seem very set on wanting to have the deadline firm and get it done. So, I tell them that in no uncertain terms is it due Friday, but if anyone individually is struggling, come talk to me, and we’ll see what we can do. When I was thinking of being more flexible on the deadline I was thinking that I haven’t been good about giving them feedback early enough. I’m also thinking about the Assessible Syllabi website that talks about having a range of dates where things can be turned in. And even about my cousin’s post that it is Jewish holidays and teachers/bosses should be aware of this when doing deadlines. It’s a funny feeling to have the class not want to take me up on the flexibility, but I get needing the incentive to finish, too. One does talk to me after class about an extension.
The first 30 minutes or so of class is a lecture. I’ve gotten better at this. I used to suck at lecturing and sometimes lean on more group work not because it was always best but because I didn’t know what to say in the lecture. Now I feel like I’m more enthusiastic, know the material better, and balance better when to talk and when to ask questions. After the lecture, I set them up to workshop their projects with some class brainstorming first. That seems to help them on a lot of their questions so I’m glad I allotted this time.
Next, I have to run to another building to observe a teaching assistant teaching. I decide to walk outside, it’s warm but not as hot as it’s supposed to be yet. (As I’m sure the other journals will mention, it’s supposed to be over 90 degrees on October 1st!). I keep checking my phone for the room number, and it doesn’t seem to show up on the calendar. I have in my head a room number but I’m horrible at remembering numbers and I know the one I’m thinking of is a big lecture hall. Sure enough, though, it is in the big lecture hall—an odd room for this sized class. But I did observe someone in this room before, actually, and ironically the lesson is on the very same topic. I realize part way through that the class is only on my calendar until noon and it goes until 12:15, which is annoying because I have a 12:30 and a 1:00 meeting, and I’m getting hungry. I email my admin assistant who sets up the observations and tell him to make sure the TH times get on the calendar correctly. The TA does a good job, but boy is this room awful. That’s a consistent theme, I’ve found: our classrooms suck.
I make it back to my office with between 5-10 minutes until my 12:30, so I pull out my lunch, which is some charcuterie, so easy to eat a bit of—hummus & pita, grapes, salami, and some really good aged gouda.
12:30 I meet with a TA who I observed last week. This TA tells me he’s resisted making connections here since it’s only a 2-year program, and I remember that liminal space of graduate school. I went to my MA in a place I already lived in and was settled, but I moved just for the PhD, and despite it being a nice place to live, I never connected to it. I knew it was temporary, and I wanted done. It’s nice to not be in that place anymore in life.
Next up is a meeting with the other admins in the department. This is a little weird: meeting with someone involved in this project on diary day. But it’s a fine meeting in which I learn about another meeting that I’m glad to be invited to but that I don’t know if it will be good or bad.
By this time it’s 1:30 or after, and I’m starting to drag. It’s been a busy morning. My wife sends me a text with a video she’s been working on, and we exchange a few fun gifs. I check a survey to see how many results I have. I call about my dad’s doctor’s appointment. I check Southwest prices for X-Mas tickets to my in-laws. I look for some sources on a topic I want to read about.
I chat with another TA who is at the desk whose father is in hospice. She’s telling me how terrible it is. How you think hospice is going to be this nice, caring place to pass away. But they’ve taken away her father’s feeding tube and said he can live a month without food, and he’s withering away. She knows my dad is sick, too, so she’s probably sharing more. They don’t tell you when you’re younger that death is like that.
I decide to head home and work more from there. I head out and don’t have to wait too long for the bus. It’s the nice bus driver. She stops for everyone and is always sweet. There’s a woman in the front of the bus with a McDonald’s uniform, and she’s dozing off. I’m feeling really tired, and then I feel guilty for feeling tired, because here I’ve been at work from like 8:15-2:30 and she’s probably pulled a 15 hour shift or something. Academics complain a lot, but I feel our privilege all the time.
Clearly what this day needs is more coffee, so I head to the Caffeinery. I’m thinking about sitting and working there, but it’s busy. I haven’t worked there in a long time because it’s always so packed. I make it there just before latte happy hour ends. Since I can’t decide what to get, I ask which of the new lattes is the barista’s favorite, and she says the Butter Pecan, so I get one to go.
Unfortunately, the latte does nothing for my concentration. I think about what I need to do tomorrow, give the little cat some wet food, text some more gifs, check a doodle poll for a meeting, poke around checking my survey results again, lie in bed for about 10 minutes thinking how I might redesign the entire curriculum, and what I need to do to help my dad out with his cancer treatments—you know, the little things. I’m not really sleepy, just tired, so I get off the bed and go back to the desk to post my monthly video post to Facebook, pay the bills, work on the Murder Mystery party we are hosting, and play around on social media.
Awful focus.
Finally, I decide the way to beat the focus problem is to dive into some transcription. This is a good thing to do because it doesn’t involve the same types of thinking as my other work, and it basically requires me to focus. So, I set a Pomodoro timer and do two of them—basically a hour of transcription. My wife comes home when I’m almost done the second timer.
I promised to make dinner, and I try a new recipe I found for Bourbon chicken. I’ve been wanting to go to Yats, which just opened, but haven’t gotten there yet, so it sounds good. I also make some fresh broccoli and corn. I feeling a bit irritable and want to play the new post-rock playlist that I’ve been liking, but Alexa won’t connect to my phone. After several tries, she finally does, but my wife asks if I can use headphones because she’s working on a video, and then my music doesn’t seem to want to connect to those. It also feels weird to cook with headphones because there’s some sound involved with cooking—like hearing the sizzling of the food—stuff I don’t really think that much about except in its absence. So, I’m irritable making dinner and kind of go between having the music (when it will work) and not.
The good news is the recipe turns out great and my wife really, really likes it. This is especially nice because she’s more of a cook that I am, and usually my stuff doesn’t turn out as good. So, that’s always nice. We can’t stop talking about the Murder Mystery party—we’re writing it—and it feels really good to be working on this together. I didn’t realize until we started doing this how much I love having a collaborative project like this with my partner. My ex and I planned elaborate Halloween parties and it was always something I loved. My wife made a video for this one, and it’s really cool. We’re getting really into it.
Yesterday, A. posted to our game’s facebook group to see if anyone wanted to meet up for games at Books & Brews, and we said we would. I’ve really enjoyed this in the past, although it’s probably been almost a year since we did it. (Our group usually meets as a larger group in people’s homes.) Between dinner and our Murder Mystery work we are a bit late, but arrive at about 7:30, and A is playing an old game on a Play Station. Now it’s time for board games. That’s what we do—hobby games. None of the ones at Books & Brew are up to snuff; we bring our own. My wife gets beer, but I’m just on for water tonight.
We play Quadropolis, a city building game that is one of my favorites. It’s just the three of us. Then we start one A brought called Discovery with a Native American theme. I’m not loving it, but it’s fine. However, B shows up just a few turns in and since Books & Brews closes in about an hour, we decide to do something else. B. brought a little dice game called Age of War that is basically a more complicated Yahtzee. It’s not the type of thing I’d normally play but is good for the short time frame and small tables at Books & Brews. I almost win, too, almost…
As we’re heading home at 9:45, I tell my wife this is the most awake I’ve been this time of the night in a while. Yeah, she says, stop going to sit in the bed at like 9 pm. Fine, I say. But the bed is comfy. Going out tonight was great, though. Also, the afternoon coffee might have something to do with the awakeness. I’m just saying.
We get home around 10 pm, and I do the dishes. My rule is to set the coffee for morning, so I have to wash the coffee pot before bed. That’s what I tell myself—just have to wash the coffee pot. 95% of the time, though, that means I do all the dishes, like I should.
Baby Boy cat is having some stomach issues and is meowing and pooping outside the box again. So, I clean that up. We just put him on some special food, and the vet says if that doesn’t help, we’ll try some medicine. I hope he’s okay. He is getting older, and it was just this time last year that my cat passed away.
I check some social media and such and head to bed to read. I read a bit until about 11:30 when I usually go to sleep. I’m still pretty awake, but I try to go to sleep and just lay there for a while thinking about things while my wife is still reading. At one point, I get up to go to the bathroom, and when I come back she’s taking up the entire bed—being a little playful—so I crawl in on her side. We actually change sides about every six months. We fall asleep that way.