What is it I do on any given day?
I tracked myself for a couple of weeks to see.
In addition to this stuff I do every day, these are a few days in the life:
April 17th:
A student from two years ago came by office hours to say I was right when I told him not to go to grad school right away.
I sorted my night pills for the next week.
I filed for reimbursement for some job expenses.
I wore a Simpsons shirt, since it was the day of my Simpsons class.
I created a norming packet for the Upper Division Comp Exam, which required reading/skimming about a hundred short essays.
I answered some okc emails. I ignored some too, including from a guy who said, “we seem to have a lot in common” even though he loves Trump and isn’t a feminist.
I edited a chapter of The Simpsons book.
I had violent back spasms.
I made banana bread and poboys (with homemade remoulade).
I texted for a while with a friend about how to handle a problem with a co-worker.
I watch John Oliver and Call the Midwife (and cried, because damnit, CTW!).
I blogged about Paula Poundstone.
Hail cracked my windshield. And the sun was shining.
I became sick of the ticking of the clock in my room and got rid of it.
I listened to music–loudly.
I had trouble falling asleep–and ended up making notes for the intro to The Simpsons book instead.
I taught and had office hours.
April 18th:
I listened to the Magnum version of The Savage Lovecast while cooking and cleaning.
I woke up very tired.
I had a lovely lunch with a friend.
I went to Costco, and as usual, I spent too much there.
I got my allergy shots (every two weeks, I have to get four shots–one is my allergy mix; three are an injectable asthma medicine–a very thick one. I always bruise).
I did an hour an a half with a student taking an independent study with me.
I saw Isle of Dogs with the boy. He found it emotionally affecting; I did not.
I helped the boy do his taxes.
I filed for more reimbursement money.
I had a lot more spasms.
I taught.
April 19th:
I edited two Simpsons book chapters.
I celebrated The Simpsons anniversary.
I cleaned the downstaris.
I hosted book group and made a russian vegetable pie and a zucchini pie. Both were eagerly devoured.
I discovered my food processor was broken.
I helped break the news to my niece that Karl Kassell had died–she is especially fond of her Karl Kassell baby doll and has exchanged mail with him.
I made an ass of myself at the grocery store. The cashier asked how classes were going, which led the bagger to ask if I had been in Davis when the pepper spray incident happened. He said he didn’t know why it was a big deal–he said the kids should have just left when asked.
I didn’t even get to the second part of my rebuttal when, without thinking about it, I put the change that came down through the machine into the donation box next to it. “Hey! That’s my change!” said the woman whose change it, in fact, was. I grabbed a dollar out of my purse–she tried to turn it down, but I explained that she had to help me get out of the ass-hole I’d dug for myself.
Now that cashier might never know that the cop who broke regulations on how far you’re supposed to be when you spray someone got more money from UCD than the students he hurt.
I taught students, without managing to steal anyone’s money and give it to a good cause. 🙂
