Fall Notes

I didn’t realize it was fall until today. I have no idea what’s wrong with my powers of observation. I mean, I can see the leaves turn, the light has gotten that clear crisp look, and the weather has gotten colder. I have noticed that, but I forgot what date fall started. I also forgot my sister’s birthday, which is the same day, so it’s clearly systemic. (Thank you, facebook, for saving my ass on that one.)

The fall semester has started, and with it, my second job. I have less time to edit, less time to post, but I’m not complaining. It also means that I get out of the house more regularly and carry on conversations with someone other than my cat. One of my coworkers asked me if I was done with my book. I’m afraid I laughed in her face.

Academia is making both DP and me cranky. We’re watching opportunities disappear in front of us or we are being asked to work more without compensation. We are watching our institutes of higher learning put the faculty and the academic interests of the students lower and lower on their list of priorities.

What is throwing you out of whack?



25 responses to “Fall Notes

  1. I have no idea. All I know is I just went to fix myself some lunch and realized that outside of a stale piece of pumpkin bread, I have exhausted every meal option in the kitchen. I don’t remember doing laundry this week. What’s worse, is I didn’t even realize it until I read this post. Thanks so much for opening my eyes…

  2. What is throwing you out of whack?
    American consumers are arrogant, high maintenance slobs.
    Business is all about shareholders and not about the value of who actually does the work, the employees.
    The price of gas, milk, bread and beer. My dog is old and going to die, I gained three pounds and my checkbook is too skinny.
    I can’t come up with an idea for my next column.
    The republicans are big mouth assholes and the democrats are confused cowards.
    My hands hurt.
    Give me a few more minutes and I’ll tell you what I really think.

  3. Tendonitis in my right elbow for about a month now. I can’t pick up a coffee cup, turn a doorknob, or dry my hair, but I’m typing all day long in spite of it, so it’s not getting any better.

    • ah, teri – been there, done that. But, I got a miracle cure (after months of despair, concerted therapy, visits to physio, and so forth). Two exercises, both compatible with the writer’s lifestyle.

      exercise #1: take a thick rubber band. the kind that would hold a bunch of pencils, say, without having to stretch and twist. Stick all your fingers and thumb into the rubber band like that bunch of pencils, all close together. slowly stretch that rubber band, opening up your fingers as wide as the band will allow you. Then, slowly, against the pressure of the rubber band, reverse the operation. That’s it. Do that all the time, whenever you think about it.

      exercise #2: do tiny wrist curls. put your elbow at your side, forearm parallel to the ground and wrist straight. Hold something that weighs about a half a pound and you can get your hand around easily (like a light hammer or a mug with a handle). then, slowly, drop your wrist against the weight, then flex it back again. Always slowly. Do that whenever you are not either doing exericse #1 or typing.

      Worked for me!

      PS-Dr Cougar did her PhD in physical education, and now as a, well, “mature” woman, she spends her life figuring out how to fix her own overuse injuries which throw her out of whack.

  4. I lost my wallet this morning. Or misplaced it. Not sure yet. I didn’t notice until I went to pay for my coffee and had to scrounge through my car for change. Not a great way to begin the day…

    • At least you didn’t try to get a parking permit at [location redacted], move back the seat of DP’s truck to search for the registration (don’t ask), and then watch as the immediate area filled up with mysterious smoke, later determined to be fire retardant. It tastes like talc and I hope it is not deadly. If it is, it was nice knowing you all.

  5. It’s definitely “flavour” – well at least where you and I live (even I am reasonably certain those are two very different places).

    But here’s another thing (and I didn’t ask Indy’s permission). Indy and my paternal grandmother’s maiden name was D—z–tz an uncommon and hard-to-spell name even in her parent’s native (eastern European) land. As soon as she reached adulthood, she headed straight to court to change her name. So what did she change it to? D—s–tz!

    Power to the S!

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