It's a holiday. I don't have work at the writing center. I do have work I could do, most importantly, work on my dissertation, which I haven't worked on for a month. I haven't been lazy: I've reviewed an article for a journal, produced a podcast, editing someone else's dissertation. I've even been writing: I finished a novel, I revised a book review, created 10 lesson plans. But I'm having a hard time just sitting down and working on my dissertation.
Oldest song in the book, right?
it's not like I want to do anything relaxing. I don't want to watch
Hulu. I cancelled my Netflix. I'm ages behind on the PBS shows. I don't
want to just chill with the friends of mine who do have the day off. I
don't have any holiday plans for a bike ride or a trip or anything.
stuck in this unpleasant not-doing but also not-not-doing. Do I take
the day off in earnest or work in earnest? The library is closed, but is
my building locked? I hate this in between. I feel like at the end of
this day I will have nothing to show for it--no major accomplishments,
no happy memories, just a lot of indecision, pacing and avoidance.
before I castigate myself, I'm tired. I want to lie in bed. This, I
learned my second February here, is how I process cedar fever, the
terrible allergy season of this time of year. This year pollen has been
uncommonly high and some of my friends and classmates look like wrecks. I
should be happy I'm not sneezing up a storm or all puffy eyed and
pained, but this letharigia looks just like my low motivation--I'm not
sick enough to call myself sick and just stay in, but I'm not well
enough to do what I'd like to do. In. Between.