Oh dear it’s a hard life. I’m in bed with a bit of a bug, as well as my computer, the Saturday Globe and Star, my writing notebook and my cell phone. The fridge is full of leftovers from Thursday’s student potluck, and there’s a chicken soup simmering on the stove. It’s supposed to go up to plus one today or tomorrow, but I will not be out revelling in the balmy breezes. I need to make sure I don’t get really sick, as I’ve a very full class to teach on Monday evening and an almost full one on Tuesday midday.
Cannot get sicker. Not possible. So – soup, rest, zinc, vitamin C. Oh – and watching the few sparrows who’ve returned to the feeder. Perhaps the seed they’ve been avoiding all week might pass muster after all.
How grateful I am that my calendar lists exactly nothing for today. If I were well, I might go to the market, to the Y, for a walk, to visit friends or family, to a movie – Wild! Selma! Two days one night! Citizenfour! I’m falling behind. (And furious that Mr. Turner was not nominated for best pic, director or actor… ridiculous. My guess is that it’s because Mike Leigh will not suck up to Hollywood. Ridiculous that Selma‘s director and lead actor were not nominated. I know, nothing new here. It’ll be an interesting night that I’ll do my best to avoid and probably not succeed. But – Keira Knightley in Imitation Game? She’s sweet, but Best Supporting Actress? Come on!)
Instead of catching up on my movies, I’m lying here with my butt starting to fall asleep and snacks nearby. I don’t believe in starving a fever, but I very much believe in feeding a cold.
Just spent an hour in 1979, working on the memoir. Yesterday – as happens often – I lost heart. What’s the point? I thought. No one will want to read this boring self-centred drivel. Today I re-read the draft, all its tentative 18,000 words in 50 pages, and I can see there’s something there. What, I’m not sure yet, but something. Have to push through to some kind of ending and then go back and figure it out.
That’s what I tell all my students all the time. Not so easy, though, when it’s my turn. Just got this from Bruce the professional pianist – it explains a lot about us all.