I’ve been hennaing my hair for years. Henna is pretty close to my natural (red-brown) hair color, but it brightens the color when I haven’t seen the sun in weeks and hides the gray for at least a week or two. I tried a new brand. What could possibly go wrong, right? Right? It looked so much like blood going on that I told DP not to be concerned if he saw gory smears on my head. And now I’m sporting the old-lady purple henna look. Fanfuckingtastic.
I had three students drop from my class, so now it might not run. I spent weeks and weeks and hours worrying and planning and writing syllabi. Fuck. Well I haven’t heard yet, so no news is good news right?
“You’re overly invested in this,” someone who shall remain nameless said to me.
Overly invested? Overly invested! I’ve been on the fringes of academia all of my fucking life. I’ve been a faculty brat, a college student, an employee of two academic bookstores, an academic support person, the friend, wife, sister, and daughter of academics. Of course I’m overinvested in teaching. Jesus H. Christ on a cracker. If I can’t get a poetry book published, the least I can do is move forward and do something new in my professional life.
Interrupt my overwhelming crankitude. Tell me some good news.