October 2

My system is a shambles.

1978

I hope to God I said intelligent things to the department chair today. There were a few awkward moments, a disagreement here and there. But we talked, really talked, for the very first time. We talked about what I wanted and what the department needed and what she wants. It was a very good conversation (what I remember of it) and I only hope I sounded as sane to Dr. Smith as I did to myself. It’s a rocky, rocky road ahead. 

Back to my cogitation.

2023

Yes, I was terrified of my department chair. She was formidable.

1979

All of a sudden I am disorganized. I am repeatedly reminded of Things To Do that are not written down anywhere. My system is a shambles.

My sister grad student is asserting herself; I ask myself, “Why shouldn’t she?”. Why should it bother me if she does well? It shouldn’t. It bothers me that it bothers me. How long have I been patronizing her because I had a single year more experience than she does?

There is a lecture to do for tomorrow. If they only knew how ignorant I am, they would all get up and walk out. “Today I am going to tell you everything I know about the history of  Chinese clothing - in 75 minutes.”

What an outpouring of ideas! What depth! It is so frustrating to keep delving below my surface and hitting a cast iron bottom almost immediately. Am I really so superficial? Why did God bother to make me intelligent? What good is intellect if I can’t use it? This is my only life - as far as I know. The realization that I have wasted 30 years of it “skating on the surface” is a persistent  source of self-torture. I am so afraid to act!! If I could lie in bed all day and read mysteries and fairy tales I would be content. Would that I could let myself do that! But no! I must twist myself around, squeeze the last miserable thought out of my reluctant mind… all to appear to be an “intellectual”. To achieve recognition, approval and lasting fame. Everlasting life on the selves of a library. Paper immortality.

1983

It has been such a long time since I’ve written to myself. That shows how successful my latest plan has been. I have been getting ALMOST everything done. The “leftovers” are, as usual, the things I do for me. But right now that isn’t bothering me. I feel so good about getting things done at helm, it doesn’t faze me that I haven’t found the time to do 20 minutes of exercise each day. That’s the least of my problems.

My goal - as I recall - was to submit 4-5 articles per year to be published. For far I have submitted 3, with 2 already accepted, and I am nearly done with a fourth. I will be done with that by 10/15. Still time this year for one or two more!

1984

The latest struggle to get work done at home is a reassessment of what I am actually able to do. Lately, computer work is out, though I still keep trying. Kiddo usually wants to play with the computer as soon as she sees it turn on. But I have some sorting, editing and stuff that needs doing and that I can do at home. Library time has been hard to schedule. Once the weather is bad, I tend to stay in the office…bad me.

Housework is falling behind, too. There is never enough time to get everything done, and that’s a fact.

Oh and I’m thinking about having another baby. How very odd how the notion pops up every once in a while. I have all these ligical arguments about not having more children, but they just fly away like dandelion fluff. Well, Not This Year. Probably not next year. Maybe the year after. Probably not after that.

Comment 2024

Truly, my heart goes out to everyone struggling with the joyful distraction of a two-year-old.

1986

Finally, we hit the breaking point. Yesterday, Mom continued to talk suicide. I couldn’t leave her alone and she objected LOUDLY to having someone come it. Finally, I decided to bring (drag) her to the ER at the hospital. From there, she was transferred to the state mental hospital. It was a truly horrible task and an extremely exhausting day.  I went to the OBGYN this morning and discovered that I had lost three pounds in the last week, So this really wasn’t working for me, or the baby.

The state hospital is the pits. The residence she is in - “Red Brick Cottage #4” - is squalid, smokey and noisy. Many of the patients are seriously disturbed and just walking around. Apparently, petty thefts and verbal threats are common. Why does this place have to be so horrible? Yes, I feel guilty. There must be somewhere she can stay that is safe, secure, supportive and pleasant. But not in our home, not until she is better.

2016 (Facebook)

Amusing journal entry from January 1984: “I feel done with sex-role research”

2017

I got up early for a massage, then returned home to finish my coffee. The only urgent tasks are the promotion review and returning my ILL items.

3 of Wands. A woman and two children are in a torch-lit cave.She is helping the children make silhouettes of their hands on the wall. Creative energy through communication, teaching, and learning.

2020

Back home from California. Feels great. Working on the Berg article.

2021

Inktober Day 2: suit

2023

What will I do in a few months, when I have transcribed every journal? Besides toss out all the hard copies, I mean. This exercise has revealed patterns in my life that I never noticed, and vividly recalled the high and low times. But then what?

Inktober, Day 2: spider

Comment 2024

It turns out that I had missed some entries, so I am still transcribing a few newly discovered ones a few times a month. I still wonder what to do next. And yes, I have thrown out the hard copies. Only 4 left, out of over 30.

2024

Inktober Day 2: Discovery