As predicted, I came home to a house full of dead beetles. Once I’d vacuumed them up, and finished gagging, I had to admit to the truth of the old adage that, while vacationing is very fun, there’s nothing like coming home.
What I love about my life is it’s all mine. Selfish, selfish thing that I am, I jealously guard my independence. But that means I can do pretty much whatever I want, when I want it. And right now, all I want to do is get back to work.
I know that sounds pathetic. After an amazing vacation, all I can think about is returning to work?
The answer is yes. I got lots done for my Fall courses while I was visiting my family, but I still need to nail down my syllabi for two of my classes. Riding higher on my list of priorities, however, are my revisions for book two and starting book three.
I asked for and received an extension on my revisions for my second book. As my parents move came at all of us like a bolt from the blue, helping them pack up their house had not been written into my revisions schedule. That said, I’m glad I was there to help and to say good bye to a lot of my childhood crap. I’m not very nostalgic, so I did throw out a lot of stuff others would have kept. But it was fun looking back through boxes of old things and realizing just what a fucking dork I’ve always been. I like to think I’m not that nerdy until the cold, harsh reality hits me in the face like a pocket protector filled with water and frozen.
I am a geek. A dork. I am a Pointdexter. A dweeb. An anorak, even. (I put that in, special, for my British readers.)
I am a great big nerd.
And ya know what? I’m so very glad I am a nerd. Being a nerd means I’ve always known what I loved and I was able to pursue my passion. What others see as ambition, career-wise, is really just me adoring what I do. I received my student evaluations from my Spring courses, and for the second time running, my students have praised my passion, my engagement, and my ability, as one student said, to bring stories to life. And yes, that student made me cry, the evil little bastard. 😉
I don’t do what I do just to earn a living; I do what I do because I always loved reading and I always wanted to share with people why it is that I think reading is so important. So yeah, I’m a geek. I’m someone who had a book attached to her face throughout her life. I read when out to dinner with my family. I read at slumber parties while the other little girls watched Halloween (although the book did come off the face for Dirty Dancing, thank you). I read during lunch and during study halls and, occasionally, even during a party in high school. Yeah, I got laughed at and, yeah, everyone knew I was a nerd. A pretty cool nerd, and fun to hang around, but a nerd, nonetheless.
But I wouldn’t trade my passion for all the cool points in the world. My passion got me both of my present careers as professor and as author. My passion carries me through frustration, and through exhaustion, and through sadness. It makes me good at my job, and makes my writing a pleasure.
And while other kids are no longer the star quarterback, or the captain of the cheerleading squad, or the star in the musical, I still have my books. Some of them are the same books I had as a child and I still read them with as much pleasure and wonder as I did, then. They have given me succor, and balance, and insights layered upon insights revealed as I’ve grown to be able to see them. Throughout all my moves they’ve followed me in their boxes, admittedly packed rather carelessly considering how precious they are to me.
They never complain. They know that the fact they are battered, stained, dog-eared and torn is really testament to the fact that I love them very, very much.
Despite the fact I’m to cheap too send them anything but Ground.