Fall is in the Air

Whether fall break means a week of sleeping until noon or one afternoon of not working and only writing two pages on an imminently due paper, it’s that time of year for [graduate] students.

Fall break starts with a great word: fall. I tend to repeat myself to the point of excess when I start to talk about how much I love autumn, especially October, so bullet points are in order…

  • Leaves – so many colors! the shushing sound of scuffing your shoes through them! drifting lazily down into piles! floating along creeks!
  • Cool air – blue-tinted wood in the morning! seeing your breath in the air! wearing jeans and sweaters! sitting outside in the sun at noon!
  • Sky – clouds and contrast and blue and gold and breezes!
  • Food – pies and cranberry sauce and pumpkins and apple-picking season and pecans and walnuts and hot apple cider and mulled wine!

I could go on, but enough already.

In academia, it’s also a time of decision making. What will my thesis be about? What courses will I take in the spring? Can I survive another semester working this many hours? Do I need to take a language course? Should I apply to PhD programs? Am I going to apply to jobs? What about AmeriCorps, Peace Corps, or Teach for America?

(and underneath it all, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE?)

And of course, all of this existential angst comes right in the middle of midterm papers and exams. Talk about a stacked deck.

But then fall break arrives. I stop. I take a walk outside. I bake something. I talk to friends. I read a book for fun. I stand in the sun with my eyes closed. And time slows down.

I know that Monday morning I’ll be stressed to the max again, trying to make all of those grand decisions and parse out my time to that last nanosecond. I know that I have papers to write and presentations to prepare and hours to clock. But every now and then it helps to pause–breathe–and get a bit of perspective.

So thanks, fall break. You’re an okay kind of holiday.

On Procrastination

This morning I came across a fascinating article about procrastination, something with which I think every graduate student is on first-name basis.

It’s called Later: What We Can Learn from Procrastination, by James Surowiecki in The New Yorker, and as a four-page article, it’s also a great procrastination tool.

Check it out!

My favorite line: “Victor Hugo would write naked and tell his valet to hide his clothes so that he’d be unable to go outside when he was supposed to be writing.”

Oh Victor.

I, the Optimist

There’s something to be said for the intense optimism that follows sickness:

Why yes, I can read three books in a day and a half. It only takes me 4 minutes to read a page: (4 x 450 pages = 1800 minutes = 30 hours). That’s 6 leftover hours!

Why no, computer, I’m not offended that you just ATE the thirty pages I spent an hour scanning. And then ate the 10 pages I spent another 20 minutes re-scanning.

You see, I can breathe through both my nostrils at the same time, and I can chuckle–without having a coughing fit–at the chipmunk frolicking outside my window and eating my basil plants. I can walk up the stairs twice in a row without breaking into a sweat, and I can taste the food I made for dinner.

So go ahead, technology. Plot your worst. Go ahead, workload, be your…normal self. I’m not afraid of you. I can do anything.

…

…

…

So maybe, in retrospect, I’m still a trifle feverish.

C’est la vie.

My dear germ friends…

You germs always have the worst timing. I mean really. Is it too much to ask that you would check Google Calendar before you move in?

Don’t tell me Germ Central doesn’t have high speed internet yet. I know you viruses share passwords. That’s right. Busted.

Staircase Strategems

**All new, behind-the-scenes look at the world of dramatized sports that is Jen versus the Stairs.**

Stairman of the Ratings Advisory Board: All right folks, listen up. We’ve seen a pretty substantial drop in our ratings this month, something about football season – what’s up with that? – so it’s time for a serious comeback, and I want everyone on board. Alistair, wow me.

(Recently hired) Tread Coach: Well Casey, the plan is to inaugurate the 2010-2011 season with a bang. Something to make them hearken back to the days before WWF stood for World Wildlife Fund. I’m picturing a bold ankle-roll-and-full-face-plant-on-the-back-stairs-of-the-library extravaganza.

(Long Silence)

Stairman: I think I’m going to like you…

Starting Monday Off Right

What better way to get your Monday off to a great start than by…?

…feeling like a fashion guru because, if nothing else, you know that your pockets should probably not be longer than your shorts.

…chuckling with the triumph of waking up before the alarm clock can have the last word.

…getting Trogdor the Burninator‘s theme song stuck in your head for no reason…”burninating the country-side…”

…walking into the bathroom, snapping your fingers, and having the lights turn on in response to your command. Anyone who says they are operated by a motion detector and would have turned on anyway is just a Monday Marplot.

So there.

Happy Monday!

Re(ally)(im)port(ant)s(tuff)

The fun (term used loosely) part of going on research trips is writing the reports afterward. Friday being my deadline, today is the day of writing.

It’s amazing how quickly the first excited rush of ideas and inspiration gets buried under the quotidian workload. Time to unearth it, dust it off, and redact three weeks into five pages, one paragraph, and three sentences of interesting material by this afternoon.

A picture is worth a thousand words, right?

I took a lot of pictures.

Ergo…

*slaps hand* Bad student. Very bad student. Stop procrastinating. Since I’m currently running on five hours of sleep, there’s only one important question: Got coffee?

Yes. Yes I do.

I am invincible.

Sorry Feet

Lesson of the day:

Asphalt absorbs sunlight.

When asphalt absorbs sunlight, it converts it to heat.

Apparently, asphalt can reach 140 degrees on a hot summer day.

Even if maximum heat is not reached, it’s fairly safe to say asphalt gets hot.

Bare feet do not appreciate those levels of heat.

Even very cooperative feet that usually do well without shoes.

Walking faster doesn’t quite do the trick.

Ergo, crossing asphalt parking lots in direct sunlight in the late afternoon in August barefoot…

Ouch.

Sorry feet.

Admission of Geekiness

The paradox of graduate school: with probably 30 books on my reading lists for classes, four jobs to juggle, and research reports to complete, I’m having a hard time putting down a book that was (before this morning) on none of my reading lists, and that I merely saw while scanning the shelves of the library.

Go figure.

Unfortunately, for now the preface to Spivak’s A Critique of Postcolonial Reason will have to remain in abeyance.

“…Thus the reader’s place is as unsecured as the writer’s. But is that not the status of all texts, resisted in the writing and the reading?”