*** best place in town to to pretend to be a scholar ***
I am a romantic about academia. I have realized this recently. The idea of biking to campus in the fall, striped scarf trailing behind, leather satchel... The idea of "scholarship", of writing in the mornings in a quiet coffee shop... the idea of poring over large books in a distant library carrel... all of this just sends my heart a flutter. I love it. I must say that in my mind it looks a little more sleepy new england and less crummy midwest. And I imagine family vacations in the summer, which are impossible really given that my husband's line of work is busiest in the summer. I wonder if I am being an idealist, if I'm making it into something it isn't? But I've always been happiest at school, my whole life. Happiest when I'm learning something. Happiest when I'm surrounded by learning. So no, actually I think that it must be pretty great that I get to do what I do. And maybe it is a little romantic. And if my imagination embellishes a bit, that's okay too.
I'm sitting out on my front porch with the dog. It's cooler outside than in. There are fireflies just beginning to wink on.
I'm starting to think that it's all too much. With the food diary and the daily calorie counting. And the yoga, and the sewing projects, and vegan cookbooks, and stacks of nonfiction books by the bedside. What am I doing? It's an amazing amount of procrastination. Hobbies are supposed to be relaxing. But I did something the past couple of days... I picked up a fiction novel. Just a random book. And the really great thing is that it all went away. All of my obsessions. Yesterday, a Sunday, I just wanted to sit on the couch and read. Believe it or not, it's actually been a long time since I've done this. I've been trying to make myself only read things that were somewhat either relevant to work or self-improvement. But no, what I need-- what I'm looking for with all of this procrastination, is an escape. But all I'm managing to do with it is cause more stress for myself! Obsessing over getting in shape for the summer. Why? For goodness sakes, who cares? I don't need to impress anyone! It's ridiculous, I don't know why I'm behaving this way. From now on, I'm getting back into fiction. I'm going to get out of my head and into someone else's.