Writer's Woe

Where have I been these last four weeks? Right here, in front of the computer, writing, like the salvation of my soul depended on it. Somehow, I managed to let all my deadlines pile up to the point where the only remaining option was to disappear for a month into the thankless, endless-seeming silence that is written composition. If only my students understood this; or else, they do understand this and that’s why they’re afraid of me so. Those who have seen me here in Madison can attest to the fact that my ghostliness goes beyond the death of my blog. I’ve had to wear band-aids to cover the tips of fingers, skinless from excessive typing, and my scalp is visible in places where I have pulled out tufts of my hair in frustration. And the self-pitying stink clearly evident in the tone of this post lingers wherever I roam. Woe is me, I moan. Woe is you, Jen sarcastically replies. Just thought I would let you know that life still stirs on this end of things, if only a little.