2. Your mini blinds are actually far dirtier than they appear.

3. It’s best not to count how many ungraded essays you still have to read.

4. It’s also best not to look at the weather forecast for the next ten days (spoiler alert: COLD).

“The Question” – Animated Short Film (720p HD) from PC3 on Vimeo.

1. Listening to Billy Joel.

2. Watching the Tournament of Champions on Jeopardy! (I was cheering Tom on. He’s a writer, trying to buy some time. He got second place, so sad.)

3. Eating caramelized onion/blue cheese pizza (YUM).

Jesse: Working, working, working, coughing, working, working working.

Scroll down and check out my NaNoWriMo word count widget on the left! You can track how many words I’m writing. Had to do some serious catching up this past weekend. Better try and stay on top of it this week, or I’m going to be in trouble. Should hit the halfway mark somewhere around Tuesday.

2. I’m writing scenes in San Francisco for the book, and it’s like reliving parts of the city. I’m watching video I took out there, sifting through pictures. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe July was only a few months ago. It feels like last year.

3. Jesse continues to work around the clock. When I say “around the clock,” I’m not exaggerating. He pulled an all-nighter last night. I did not.

4. The semester is mere weeks away from being complete. Christmas decorations are up in most stores. The year is rapidly coming to a close. I’m not unhappy about this; I’m ready to say goodbye to 2011.

5. I am not ready for winter. I am not ready for winter. I am not ready for winter.

We see each other in glimpses–over breakfast cereal, or as one of us is leaving the house. Our conversations are brief and usually revolve around how the project is coming.

Strangely, this routine feels almost familiar. It almost feels like July. I am spending most of my time alone, though this time I have the cats with me. Last night, I came home from work, made myself some dinner, fed the cats their dinner, and putzed around the house for the rest of the evening, listening to the quiet. I wrote a little. I read. I took a bath. I went to bed alone and woke up briefly when Jesse came home. I am getting better at falling asleep alone. Usually, I can’t sleep if he’s not in the bed, but gradually I am adapting.

This will be life for the next few weeks, until the project is done. I’m hoping to take the opportunity to write more than usual. The loneliness this time around is not as acute as it was in San Francisco because I see my colleagues at work and I see my friends from time to time, and those glimpses of Jesse in the mornings–while brief–are far better than nothing.

I am, however, greatly looking forward to getting my husband back.

1. Eating tons of leftovers (lots of cooking this past weekend)

2. Working, working, working (Jesse more than me, though, as always)

3. Yeah, that’s about it.

Boring lately. Sorry about that. Will try to be fabulous and exciting next week.

BUT, because my car has been in the shop getting its new driver’s side mirror, I have been driving to work with Jesse this week, and it’s nice to have a little extra time together. AND, I have the most brilliant students who continually inspire me and even when my back aches from carrying too many books and even when sweat is pouring down my face because I’m trying to teach outside and even when my eyes are nearly crossed from grading so many essays, even then I still love my job.

Example: today I met with a student and got to talk about gerunds. My office mate and I agreed that gerunds are simply the best and most adorable of all the grammar critters. How fun is that?

As much fun as I’m having, I am quite tired and quite swamped with work, but fall break is right around the corner, and so is fall itself–or so I’m told. I can’t wait.

(But right now, I could really use a nice bath and some of Ginsberg’s letters to his father and a cup of hot tea.)

I had a migraine in the middle of teaching a class on Wednesday. There was light streaming in the windows from the setting sun outside, and at first I thought the spots I saw were from glancing at the sun, but soon I realized they were there of their own accord. In time, everything in the left side of my vision was sparkling, a visual crackling. My students’ faces sparkled. The desks sparkled. I tried to concentrate on what I was saying.

After the class ended, I went back to my office with Jesse, who had come to help me move some furniture, and I found that the building, which I’d been told would be locked at nine or ten at night, was already locked. Then, I realized the card I had to open it was in my office. Inside the locked building. Along with my wallet and purse and laptop (left on, of course).

To our great fortune, someone left the building before too long, and we were able to get in and retrieve my things and move the furniture and set up the books and hang the picture.

There were other small blessings that made this week doable. A coworker gave me a stack of post-it notes in the shape of an E, just because. Someone wrote “Hi, Erin!” on the whiteboard in the classroom I teach in. The couple I babysit for spontaneously bought Jesse and me dinner on Friday night. Sometimes it’s the small things that help soften the other blows.

The weekend itself was nice, a reprieve. We ate free breakfast at Chick-Fil-A, we did some window shopping, we watched a movie at home, we baked chocolate chip cookies. I picked out which $2.5 million home in San Francisco I’d buy if we were rich. The cats did a lot of napping in very cute positions. I generally felt optimistic about the future, if a little sad about some things in the present. I saw this and thought, how true.

Pinterest

(Will resurface soon. xoxo.)