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Dec. 4th, 2002 02:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sanpaku_backupI am a task-oriented person. That's not the right way to be. One is supposed to be "goal-oriented," meaning you keep your eye on the long-term and put your tasks together with that in mind. Not structuring your day and week around a finite number of tasks that, if you really put your mind to it, you could finish in about three hours.
But they are things like writing final exams, grading papers, and the like, and I just don't want to do them. I will be sorry later.
URI asked me to teach the second half of the freshman US survey in Kingston, but I decided to turn them down. Even though I had originally planned on teaching next semester, there were a number of minor problems that added up to me not wanting to do it, including the time it takes to go to Kingston as opposed to Providence campus (45 minutes away as opposed to 10), the number of meetings per week (2 short meetings as opposed to 1 long one), and the nature of the course (teaching the survey to 35 bored freshmen doesn't appeal to me any more). It really came down to whether I wanted the money or not. But I am burned out and I want to spend time at home, maybe work on turning the diss. into a book, etc. I will probably regret not having that money, I suppose. It is constitutionally difficult for me to turn down paying work, no matter how overwhelmed I am.
----------------
The baby has good days and bad days. Monday was a good day; she slept for a long time and in the next room, so Mrs. got up to change her, and I got my first unbroken 8 hours of sleep in almost a month. Let me tell you, you notice how good that feels! Last night, though, she decided to cry on and off almost solid from 6 until midnight and then again at around 4 am. The Mrs. gets sad and frustrated and it is hard to know what to do when as far as you can tell, nothing is wrong.
Interestingly, this living in perpetual twilight experience has really changed my perception of time. One of the things I most hate about getting older is how fast time seems to move. I feel like just yesterday I started writing 2002 on my checks, and now the year is almost over, etc. But time has really slowed to a crawl again, just because the baby's actions make you aware of time passing and very aware of how she does change, but very, very gradually.
And things are happening amidst all the crying and the diapers. She can follow an object around with her eyes, or look in the direction of a sound now -- no big deal, but she couldn't do that for the first few weeks. Supposedly the next month will be the hardest because of all the growth spurts, but at the end she is supposed to coo and babble and stuff like that.
The other thing we are doing is watching a lot of television, especially movies. I have become a veritable movie hound. Between the fireplace and the need for the Mrs. to sleep in the early evening, it's just all I can do. And since the past week has cooperated with some really beautiful snow, it is all too god damn much to be believed. We are living in a Hallmark card.
--------------------
Thanksgiving was really wonderful and everything we could have hoped for this year. I worked like crazy to make sure the house was perfect and that we were finally unpacked, which could be stressful but made me happy in the end. It's a funny thing about me: I do not consider myself a vain person, but I do like the house and our meager possessions to look as good as possible when company comes. Probably due to a childhood inability to ever clean my room.
Anyway, the house looked great and the food was excellent. Our Tofurkey is becoming an annual tradition, with string beans and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and a spinach-dip-filled round bread and three different types of dessert. I love Gluttony Day. I even did all the things I never do on Thanksgiving, like watch the horrible parade and the stupid football games.
The Mrs.' family was over that day. Over the weekend we had my family in for the baby naming on Saturday as well as my friend D. who came in from New York to be the godmother. She also fulfilled an extremely important function, of talking to my father about investments and 529 plans and that sort of thing, so I didn't have to. He is very much into that sort of stuff -- watches that annoying Louis Rukeyser every week -- and though I appreciate the effort that goes into it, I just can't be bothered. I am still trying to get my act together to set up a savings account, as I have meant to do for almost a year.
But I have to admit it was nice and maybe a little unexpected to see my mom melt for the baby, as she really hasn't about anything in a long time. And to hear my dad say at one point, "She's looking for her father," and realize that he meant me and not him... corny but true that there's a slot in your mind for "father" and it's a shock to put yourself there.
Well, these are pointless ruminations, so I will sign off.
But they are things like writing final exams, grading papers, and the like, and I just don't want to do them. I will be sorry later.
URI asked me to teach the second half of the freshman US survey in Kingston, but I decided to turn them down. Even though I had originally planned on teaching next semester, there were a number of minor problems that added up to me not wanting to do it, including the time it takes to go to Kingston as opposed to Providence campus (45 minutes away as opposed to 10), the number of meetings per week (2 short meetings as opposed to 1 long one), and the nature of the course (teaching the survey to 35 bored freshmen doesn't appeal to me any more). It really came down to whether I wanted the money or not. But I am burned out and I want to spend time at home, maybe work on turning the diss. into a book, etc. I will probably regret not having that money, I suppose. It is constitutionally difficult for me to turn down paying work, no matter how overwhelmed I am.
----------------
The baby has good days and bad days. Monday was a good day; she slept for a long time and in the next room, so Mrs. got up to change her, and I got my first unbroken 8 hours of sleep in almost a month. Let me tell you, you notice how good that feels! Last night, though, she decided to cry on and off almost solid from 6 until midnight and then again at around 4 am. The Mrs. gets sad and frustrated and it is hard to know what to do when as far as you can tell, nothing is wrong.
Interestingly, this living in perpetual twilight experience has really changed my perception of time. One of the things I most hate about getting older is how fast time seems to move. I feel like just yesterday I started writing 2002 on my checks, and now the year is almost over, etc. But time has really slowed to a crawl again, just because the baby's actions make you aware of time passing and very aware of how she does change, but very, very gradually.
And things are happening amidst all the crying and the diapers. She can follow an object around with her eyes, or look in the direction of a sound now -- no big deal, but she couldn't do that for the first few weeks. Supposedly the next month will be the hardest because of all the growth spurts, but at the end she is supposed to coo and babble and stuff like that.
The other thing we are doing is watching a lot of television, especially movies. I have become a veritable movie hound. Between the fireplace and the need for the Mrs. to sleep in the early evening, it's just all I can do. And since the past week has cooperated with some really beautiful snow, it is all too god damn much to be believed. We are living in a Hallmark card.
--------------------
Thanksgiving was really wonderful and everything we could have hoped for this year. I worked like crazy to make sure the house was perfect and that we were finally unpacked, which could be stressful but made me happy in the end. It's a funny thing about me: I do not consider myself a vain person, but I do like the house and our meager possessions to look as good as possible when company comes. Probably due to a childhood inability to ever clean my room.
Anyway, the house looked great and the food was excellent. Our Tofurkey is becoming an annual tradition, with string beans and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and a spinach-dip-filled round bread and three different types of dessert. I love Gluttony Day. I even did all the things I never do on Thanksgiving, like watch the horrible parade and the stupid football games.
The Mrs.' family was over that day. Over the weekend we had my family in for the baby naming on Saturday as well as my friend D. who came in from New York to be the godmother. She also fulfilled an extremely important function, of talking to my father about investments and 529 plans and that sort of thing, so I didn't have to. He is very much into that sort of stuff -- watches that annoying Louis Rukeyser every week -- and though I appreciate the effort that goes into it, I just can't be bothered. I am still trying to get my act together to set up a savings account, as I have meant to do for almost a year.
But I have to admit it was nice and maybe a little unexpected to see my mom melt for the baby, as she really hasn't about anything in a long time. And to hear my dad say at one point, "She's looking for her father," and realize that he meant me and not him... corny but true that there's a slot in your mind for "father" and it's a shock to put yourself there.
Well, these are pointless ruminations, so I will sign off.
