1. Learn enough facts about the women’s movement(s) to present a semi-compelling lecture on them.
2. Get some other work done.
3. Reflect on how certain things have not fucking changed at all. Virginia Woolf talked about killing the angel in the house, the one who says you have to be the perfect example of womanhood and keep everything pure.
3a. Realize you need to do dishes.
3b. Realize that this is basic hygiene and/or public health issue and not actually an angel of the house matter.
4. Think about the fact that Louis felt like she had to make baby food for her baby from scratch. Think about the fact that DP does not apologize for the messy house, but you do. Think about how you should strangle that goddamned angel.
5. Resolve to keep the dining room table covered in boxes of lightbulbs (why, DP, why?), feminist texts, miscellaneous paper, mail, glasses, books, my grandmother’s ridiculously pretty Chinese bowl, and some hair clips. Virginia Woolf would prefer it that way.
6. Present lecture. Flub it, but not too badly. Forget a few important points, remember others. A finished (recorded) lecture is better than no lecture at all. Resolve to move on with life.
6a. Hope students think the gratuitous picture of half-frozen waves on Nantucket (after discussing the three waves of feminism) is funny.
6b. Acknowledge self as total dork. Resolve to move on with life.
7. Empty out dishwasher, which is the first stage of doing dishes.
8. Stare at section to edit for the day. Consider and reject crying. Consider and reject loading dishwasher. Consider and reject quitting writing memoirs for ever.
9. Threaten self with no beer o’clock and no dinner until section is revised. Consider and reject crying. Consider and reject quitting writing memoirs for ever.
10. Resolve to move on with life.