Next Steps

To be doing something. I fancied myself thinking all sorts of romantic and passé thoughts, like “what does it mean to be a writer? A mother? An entity on this planet, in this space, in this time, looking out of the part of my kitchen window that is not obstructed by an unplugged beige refrigerator with wood trim?

I look out at the crusty concrete parking lot in front of my home, at the narrow street that runs by, at the hazy overgrown field beyond it. Two pine trees, one towering and the other squat, look back at me from across the street, with their toes poked gingerly in the asphalt. They wave vaguely in the wind. And this is how I pass my work days at home, with those trees peering at me typing away and me looking back and them and contemplating having peanut butter for lunch.

I finished my chapter yesterday. I’d hoped to be able to say that with the hint of confetti and martinis in my voice but instead I imagine telling my girlfriends and having them reply incredulously “GodDAMN! I thought you’d finished that last year!” However, I love the analogy that my cousin came up with last night—“So your chapter is five months late…that’s like being half an hour late for a meeting, right? At least you called first and you didn’t miss the whole thing.”

It’s 12:17pm. It’s quiet, except for the clicking of the keyboard, ambient music playing on the tv in the living room (I knew there was a reason for directTV), and the white noise of a fan upstairs trying valiantly to circulate air.

So, I’ve been looking at my list of “big deal loose ends.” Another conference proposal due in three days. Another final chapter draft due August 13th. This workshop I’ve been trying to arrange. Ordering books for myself and my students for classes that start in three weeks. The grant report that was due last year and the grant proposal that needs to be done in two weeks. And the emails, the horrid, neverending stream of emails. They are the tapeworm of my professional life.

One step in front of the other, small decisions and small actions. I’ll do some professional reading, some prioritizing of things that need to be done to turn big deal loose ends into smaller ones. I will email until my fingers are numb.

And I will have some bread and jelly with my peanut butter.