Holy shit the bed.
I sat at my sister’s house, finishing a paper, enjoying the family (no REALLY. I had the BEST weekend ever) and just feeling stress free and loving life…until I checked the syllabus for tonight’s class.
Papers to be presented.
WHAT??? you mean the one I HAVEN’T STARTED YET BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS DUE NEXT WEEK???
Yep. That one.
I’m ok. I’ve done my research, and started much more last night, have developed a map of sorts, a time line to go by, some bits of writing. That’s what I’ll be presenting. My poor professor has calmly replied to my frantic emails. I know he’ll be glad to see me go. But I’ve found gobs of information, and this week, I’ll be able to write. TO WRITE. Today however, we are all sending up a prayer for my acting skills, saying a prayer of Thanks to Roger and Ma who told me…if you don’t know the answer, tell what you DO KNOW…and to Brenda Brown who taught that Southern Writers seminar the summer before my senior year and started my personal journey into the world of Zora Neal Hurston. It’s because of that, that I already own many of the texts needed, already have much of the knowledge that will be touted tonight, and have the passion for the words that will fill in any empty spaces that I’ll have in lieu of the actual paper.
I want to tell you about my weekend. I want to tell you about experiencing The Muppet Movie with my boys. . . but I have to keep everything on lockdown and focus on this.
I know you’ll understand. . . and if I forget that you’ll remind me.
Gawd, I remember when I was at USAO, the last few weeks of the semester, sitting in the writers lab gnawing on stale animal crackers, no make up, hair in a knot on top of my head that perhaps hadnt seen shampoo in a few days and thinking, “Next semester I am NOT DOING THIS”