Will's Coffee House

John Dryden, Dramatist, Critic, Poet Laureate, and my ancestor, frequented a coffee house called Will's almost daily, where he would hold forth on sundry subjects with great wit and aplomb. Same deal here, only without the wit or aplomb.

Location: Large Midwestern City, Midwestern State, United States

I am a stranger in a sane land...

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Progress and Setbacks

Interviews are coming in with striking rapidity--we're up to four so far, so I only need one more to beat last year's total (which would be nice, frankly.) And the schools in question are remarkably good--one's even Ivy League, for Heaven's sake. So this is all to the good, vindication of the fact that, on paper at least, I don't suck, hurrah.

Unfortunately, along with the interviews, the depressive anxiety is likewise back with a vengeance. It had tapered off a bit since my last jeremiad-entry of three weeks ago, but now it's returned and it seems to have set up shop for a good solid spell. Much of the worry is based on these same interviews, of course--so much is riding on them that it's nigh impossible not to feel more than a trifle nervous. But there are plenty of other factors--it's the end of the quarter, and I always go a little nuts when transitioning from Teaching Mode and all of its deadlines and structure and patterns and habits (all things that make my fragile little psyche feel all warm and safe) to the sudden emptiness of...well, nothing really to do, much. I can--and will--find ways to fill the time. (Right now I'm whacking myself out of anti-anxiety meds and watching daytime TV--two activities that just go hand in hand like peanut butter and chocolate.) But one hopes that further progress will be made on articles--I have a few ideas kicking around and one should try to keep publishing, after all. So, that.

But the anxiety is pretty dreadful, a lot of the time. One wakes up with a jolt and the first thought is "Oh, f***." Your day is not going to be a good one if that happens--pretty much a take-to-the-bank rule, that. So I'm off to shrinks and pill-dispensers to see what, if anything's, to be done, and in the meantime trying to wend my way carefully and responsibly through the mountain of end-term grading and filing. Oh, and I'm sighing heavily a lot--I find that takes up a good hour, hour and a half each day. Nothing like passing the time while waiting for the brain to settle down...


Post a Comment

<< Home