Wranglin' In

 Almost a sense of euphoria.

I just completed expounding the fifth hour of my extremely large lecturing day.  I also have reached a modicum of success in wrangling in Moby Dick, my nemesis and/or friend... depending on how you view it.  To use another fractured metaphor, I have gotten the noose of my rope around the heifer's neck and wrestled and rustled it to the ground in some semblance of submission. 

After working most every day since Friday until 2am or 3am, I am MORE THAN dead-dog tired,  but, I believe I have reached a point of regaining a small slice of my autonomy.

With all the shifting and shuffling I have done in the last week, but especially since last Friday, my time was not my own.  I moved everything I could to accommodate all my novice researchers (and some less-than-novice researchers too because they also are soon presenting).  This meant that other than my classes, every damn moment was fair game.  And this then necessitated my late nights to 2am or 3am to maintain some level of order in my own, non-lecture work..... grading, writing, reading papers, making exams, etc. And (of course) helping my wife, and cleaning, and taking care of the dog and cat, and getting all manner of chores around the house done as well.  

But other than the remaining 7 or 8 scheduled half hours blocks I have had the researchers sign up for... today, tomorrow, and Thursday.... my autonomy now can inflow back into me and begin to rejuvenate my mushy mind, my achy body, and my warfarin-level of a bruised spirit.

Everything is pretty much as "done" as I can make it in terms of helping the researchers.  Every meeting associated with their final run-throughs is set.  Everything related my Executive Committee work with this regional conference is also set. And, of course all my lectures are set.   Any holes or gaps that now exist in my schedule are NOW MY OWN.... to do damn well what I please.  I believe this return to a start of some normalcy may begin at 5:00pm today.

I believe I will be able to swimming with my wife.

I believe she and I will will be able to go out to eat afterwards.

I believe I may even be able to watch a bit of television tonight.

I also suspect that if I were to grant myself the option to indulge in a pipe this evening, my almost sense of euphoria would likely expand beyond euphoria and in my exhausted beyond measure state... I would find myself splayed across the living room carpet in an exhausted, rather gelatinous, morphological  bliss of a sorts I remember feeling one time, so long ago.  It was in the early afternoon on the day I defended my doctoral dissertation.  I remember how keyed up and exhausted I was culminating in pressures building to a pinnacle at the start of the defense.  When it was done, and I was granted the signatures showing I had succeeded, I could feel the emotions and worries drain out of my exhausted body.  I went back to my apartment, sat on the couch, and filled the bowl of my pipe with non-aromatic Sir Walter Raleigh pipe tobacco (a rugged, long-standing favorite).  As I sat there, smoking, the strength impacted me more than typical because of my shear exhaustion and the long pent-up stresses being released and I sat down upon the carpet... then I laid down upon the carpet, smoking my pipe... and living in the shear experience itself.... allowing my mind to process the events of that day.  It was the pipe helping me to convert the horror and worry of the morning into a blissful regaining of myself ... my autonomy.... after the events had righted themselves at the defense's conclusion.  

Today, it feels I would feel it similarly if I were to venture forth with it.

PipeTobacco