Hitting oneself with adapted farm implements
When I quit my 9-5 Day Job and took on a three-class teaching load and the contract job, I figured I'd be busy, sure, but I also thought my time would be flexible enough that I could dedicate maybe half a day per week to writing, plus random road trips during which I would see strangely beautiful or amusing places and drive great distances and think deep thoughts.
So far, not so much with the flexibility and the road trips.
Last night I dreamed of a road trip, though. I was in Monterey, which was not really Monterey but rather a dream version of Monterey, characterized by viscous sapphire waves and a really lovely little library, in which I was spending most of my road trip. My road trip was in a library.
I am determined to take one day off per week, and today was it. I'm having a hard time relaxing. I've got a brown belt pre-test Tuesday (in anticipation of a brown belt test in November, and, boy, is that ridiculously too soon in every way something can be too soon, but I must defer to my school's judgment on such matters) and I can't remember nunchaku technique #10, which consists of hitting oneself in ten places (yes, in this technique you hit yourself rather than your opponent, who presumably is rendered inert and vulnerable in wonderment at the spectacle of you hitting yourself) and I can't remember which ten places and in which order. I used to be much better at writing stuff down, but I've let myself get lazy, and now I'm paying the piper. Fucking piper. I should just hit him with my chuks.
Oh, also, I threw my back out. Exacerbated an old injury. About nine years ago, I was lifting a huge computer monitor for a pregnant co-worker and started losing my grip. I could have just let the monitor crash to the floor, but instead I wrestled it down and badly strained some back muscles. I was much younger then, and even stupider. And the injury acts up every now and again, and hopefully it will leave the stage in time for the pre-test.
I think I've already figured out what to do with my students this week, which will hopefully save me classroom prep time. I need to save all the time I can, because I lose my usual prep day (Tuesday) on account of I have to fly out to San Bernadino and back for a one-hour meeting.
Insane, just a little bit.
My new osteomancer story is going exactly the way the first one did, in which I spent a few thousand words getting my hero to the Big Action and then had to pause and wonder what the Big Action Was and What It Meant In Terms of Theme and Character.
In the last osteomancy story my hero Fought the Evil Wizard of Los Angeles, whereas in this one he's about to have a Confrontation With a Shadow Man Made of Magic Tar in a Parking Lot.
If I get desperate I guess I can just throw in a gratuitous nunchaku battle.
I think I may have had slightly too much caffeine.
So far, not so much with the flexibility and the road trips.
Last night I dreamed of a road trip, though. I was in Monterey, which was not really Monterey but rather a dream version of Monterey, characterized by viscous sapphire waves and a really lovely little library, in which I was spending most of my road trip. My road trip was in a library.
I am determined to take one day off per week, and today was it. I'm having a hard time relaxing. I've got a brown belt pre-test Tuesday (in anticipation of a brown belt test in November, and, boy, is that ridiculously too soon in every way something can be too soon, but I must defer to my school's judgment on such matters) and I can't remember nunchaku technique #10, which consists of hitting oneself in ten places (yes, in this technique you hit yourself rather than your opponent, who presumably is rendered inert and vulnerable in wonderment at the spectacle of you hitting yourself) and I can't remember which ten places and in which order. I used to be much better at writing stuff down, but I've let myself get lazy, and now I'm paying the piper. Fucking piper. I should just hit him with my chuks.
Oh, also, I threw my back out. Exacerbated an old injury. About nine years ago, I was lifting a huge computer monitor for a pregnant co-worker and started losing my grip. I could have just let the monitor crash to the floor, but instead I wrestled it down and badly strained some back muscles. I was much younger then, and even stupider. And the injury acts up every now and again, and hopefully it will leave the stage in time for the pre-test.
I think I've already figured out what to do with my students this week, which will hopefully save me classroom prep time. I need to save all the time I can, because I lose my usual prep day (Tuesday) on account of I have to fly out to San Bernadino and back for a one-hour meeting.
Insane, just a little bit.
My new osteomancer story is going exactly the way the first one did, in which I spent a few thousand words getting my hero to the Big Action and then had to pause and wonder what the Big Action Was and What It Meant In Terms of Theme and Character.
In the last osteomancy story my hero Fought the Evil Wizard of Los Angeles, whereas in this one he's about to have a Confrontation With a Shadow Man Made of Magic Tar in a Parking Lot.
If I get desperate I guess I can just throw in a gratuitous nunchaku battle.
I think I may have had slightly too much caffeine.
2 Comments:
A nunchacku battle with a man made of tar sure sounds like Maureen's "things get worse" plotting philosophy to me.
By David Moles, at Sun Oct 01, 10:16:00 PM MST
There is no such thing as a gratuitous nunchaku battle.
Also, sorry about your back.
By Jon Hansen, at Mon Oct 02, 07:42:00 AM MST
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