unplanted

i already forgot what i was going to write about

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I’ve been sick and bed/home bound for four days now. I’m beginning to feel the ickiness wear off, but it’s a slow process. Simple things wear me out, like taking a shower, or playing fetch with my oh-so-very bored dog. And I’m having troubles staying focused, too. I’m reading Leviathan now, but it’s slow going. I read each page a couple times, and this one is much easier to follow than Travels in the Scriptorium. I’ve been doing some work, too, but about all I’ve really accomplished is reading and responding to email.

In the meantime, I have a couple very interesting projects I need to work on.

A few months ago I was asked to be a judge for the Northshore school district’s literary journal, Reflections. It’s really a cool opportunity. I’ve been reading poetry and short stories by sixth through twelth graders and again I am reminded that there are some very good young writers out there. Once again I am thinking that maybe I should be teaching in public schools. But I know that would drive me crazy. As Robin says, I would likely end up either screaming and pulling my hair out, or breaking out in maniacal laughter. I don’t really get an opportunity for either of those things in my current job.

I’ve also been helping Robin with her application to a post-graduate program. I told her when she began her application that this would be some of the most difficult writing she would ever have to do. She didn’t believe me. And now the deadline is less than 24 hours away and we still have some work to do. It’s fun for me, and very satisfying. Part of that satisfaction comes in knowing that I am helping her move into the next phase of her life, and another part comes in knowing that I am using my talents/abilities solely for her. We had a bit of a tiff last week about what it means to work for your partner, but the dust settled quickly and we agreed that I am not working for her, that I am giving her support in a way that most of the folks she knows can’t or wouldn’t.

Eventually I want to write about the fact that Robin kept telling me that she can’t offer lactation coaching for me (because I’m not lactating, never have and likely never will), nor can she deliver or help deliver my baby (again, I’m not pregnant). In fact, I think that’s what I sat down to write about–something about how people who are close to one another provide support through their areas of expertise. One of the questions I ask when I’m interviewing potential new tutors is: where do you go for help with your writing? They usually tell me that they ask friends or family members for help, rather than coming to the Writing Center. I always think it’s interesting that they would seek support from someone other than a resource that’s readily avaiable and trained specifically to help others with their writing. For me it’d be like asking a friend who only knows a little bit about cars to replace my brakes, rather than going to Les Schwab.

I think I was also going to write something about how weird I think lactation is, but I’ve forgotten what it was.

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Author: Kim Sharp

more later

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