Never Been Posted: Part Two

This one's from February 6th.

I've been feeling like I need to post an update lately. I haven't been feeling like trying to compose anything interesting lately, so I considered doing a bullet point heres-whats-going-on-with-me-lately list. But what would be the point of that? To catch up whoever reads this with my latest goings-on? This got me thinking about the point of this blog. Lately I feel it's just been a combination of a type of litmus reading of my current state of mind (and maybe not even a wholly accurate one, since I'm self conscious about bitching and whining too much) and a laundry list of my hopes and dreams. Since charting my progress in my triathlon training, it's feeling redundant. But I guess if "redundant" (or maybe "routine") is what's accurate about my life right now, and if I mean this to be a journal, then that's what it is. Maybe writing anything at all is good practice. At the very least, my good buddies residing in Europe might enjoy a bit of a catch-up. Even if it's lazy and uncreative of me, I will go on with the bulleted list:

Let's start with the woes and beefs and end with the triumphs and pleasantries:

• I realized the other day that I haven't written fiction in two years. I workshopped the one short story I wrote since graduating college at two different summer writing programs and it's still not in any state that I'm satisfied with. Really, I only took it to the second workshop because I had to have something in order to attend the class. I had an incredible, joyful, learning-filled experience there, but I didn't come out with anything worth publishing. I've temporarily given up on writing. For five years, I've been planning on sending one of my college stories to a journal in Florida and I've never done it. I had even started writing a cover letter at one point. I keep forgetting about it, remembering every one in a while, and then putting it off. I haven't had a real idea for a story in I don't know how long, and I haven't read a short story by someone else in probably two years. I was worried, years ago, that becoming a teacher would do this to me--derail me from my "true passions" to where I quit pursuing them altogether. It isn't true that I don't have time to write, though, and I also like being a teacher. It also isn't true that I believe I'm not good enough to pursue writing. I really just feel like I have no ideas right now and I haven't bothered to try to tap into the world of writing (which, to me, involves reading short stories and thinking about writing and practicing). I briefly thought, the other day, that maybe I could try my hand at essay writing (not like in English class, but like an article about a topic I'd been thinking about). But then I didn't do anything about it.

• In other woes, I've been having a cold for what feels like months now and it's full blown right now. I didn't go for a run this week because of it. I'm tired of feeling run down. I take vitamins and I've been putting myself to bed earlier than usual and I hope that will help me come out of it. I would blame it on the cold weather, but I'm pretty sure that's an old wives tale.
  
• I've been behind on grading for about a month and a half. At first it was because I assigned an in-class journal/essay thing on the first day back and then spent the rest of the week going to work from 7:10-2:25 and rehearsing at the theater from 4-9:30. Those 163 journals sat untouched, and if I know anything about grading, it's that it has to be done in small portions and you have to work on them frequently. I proceeded to procrastinate that one stack, since the sight of it, sitting there all tall and untouched and paper-clipped, made me feel overwhelmed. Our "snow day" Friday helped me catch up, though. I now only have one assignment left before I'm caught up: 163 persuasive letters.
  
• I haven't played piano in a while. I've forgotten Moonlight Sonata for the fourth time.
  
• I haven't been reading as much as I'd like to be. I watch shows instead, and I spend too much time on my laptop.

This one ends here. I must have exhausted myself before I got to the good stuff.