At some point, I realized I had to admit to myself (and my blog) that I’m just not a frequent blogger. And that infrequency is only going to get worse this year, as my thesis begins to convince me that I’m unworthy (yes, in that Wayne’s World voice, but with none of the glee). Now, I’m trying to convince myself that’s OK–the infrequency; that sometimes the standards I have for myself are unrealistic and create undue stress for no reason other than…I just want to be better. At everything. All the time.
But maybe the multitasking that people think I’m good at/that I think I’m good at is truly a facade; and beneath it is a chaos that no one sees me. (I feel like I’m Rumpelstiltskin and I just shared my name by revealing that).
[Alright, now, deep breath.]
I think I go through this phase a few times throughout the year. I’m not sure if this is healthy reflection, a whiny blog post or some obsessive guilt-trip I take myself on every few months because I’m not producing like I’d like to. It’s probably some monster baby combo of the three.
It’s just that most days when I get home I do some combo of the following: grade, read for my thesis, clean, cook or pass out from exhaustion. Or being sick. Since I just came out of my first two-week cold for the year. They come a few times each year, and always take my voice at the end, which makes teaching a very interesting mime act.
And after doing a combo of those things, writing a post about the day I played a teacher-librarian just doesn’t seem that important.
All of this to say: I’ll post when I can and when I don’t, I’m sure there’s some form of entertainment around here to meddle with until another striking thought makes it way onto the Internet via my WordPress app–which is a little frustrating. I should expound upon that. The app, I mean. The less-posting, too, though.