I am so close to, once again, becoming a bad blogger. Each weekend, I begin to fret because I have not yet found the time to sit and write. I have admitted some repeats, and some of the repeats are known only to me. Classes started last week, and I am working hard to stay ahead of my planning and grading. So far, only two class days in, I am worried about how long I will make it. I had planned to audit a non-fiction writing class, but so far, I have yet to make it. In addition to my courses, I have taken on some exciting freelance work, and though rewarding, the jobs are quite time consuming. So I find myself buried in work, panicked by the thought of getting too far behind, and guilty that my kids spend so long in daycare. So, you see, the blog quickly becomes a "least of my priorities" task. And I am tempted each week to perhaps put off until later in the week - or take a week off just this once. Still, an assignment is an assignment - even one given to the self. So, now that I have given you my confession, I will give you the words of poet Kenneth Koch. This poem was given to me by my boss several years ago, and the opening lines echo in my head when I come to the frantic point of juggling my overwhelming tasks. Yielding to someone else to speak is not quite as bad as skipping a week of writing, but it's pretty close. And I am going to do it anyway. "You want a social life, with friends"
by Kenneth Koch You want a social life, with friends. A passionate love life and as well To work hard every day. What’s true Is of these three you may have two And two can pay you dividends But never may have three.There isn’t time enough, my friends– Though dawn begins, yet midnight ends– To find the time to have love, work, and friends. Michelangelo had feeling For Vittoria and the Ceiling But did he go to parties at day’s end? Homer nightly went to banquets Wrote all day but had no lockets Bright with pictures of his Girl. I know one who loves and parties And has done so since his thirties But writes hardly anything at all.
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Diana CurtisWife, mom, stepmom, writing instructor, handbell ringer, choir singer, calligrapher, and expert napper. Archives
December 2017
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