Um, so, that to-do list in my last post is too long.
I hate it.
Why do I feel that I must do everything, every single thing, that I possibly can, every single summer? I don't ever do it all, and I spend a lot of time being stressed out about having so much to do. Why do I insist upon putting fun things--like making paper, or knitting, or reading a book for pleasure--on my Task List? On the one hand, it gives them some priority. On the other, I find myself thinking things like, "OK, if I just knit two rows of this afghan every day, I'll have it done by September!", and then it becomes a Required Homework Item and I drain all of the fun out of it.
When I was a kid--like, twelve--I'd get so excited about summer that I'd start planning it in early May. I'd make up detailed schedules of what I was going to do every day: play horses from 9-10, work on a puppet show with my brother from 10-11, read from 11-12, go to the pool from 2-3, and so forth. Then I'd look at those schedules, feel like the summer was already over (and hadn't been all that interesting), and get depressed.
I was twelve twenty-three years ago. Have I learned anything? Not really.
So here's the deal. I might not do all the stuff on my to-do list. (In fact, I definitely won't, but don't let me overhear myself saying it.) And that is simply going to have to be all right. If I can finish this one article (which I can), outline my colloquium presentation, and decide on a topic for Article/Chapter/Whatever the Next (and I have an idea for that), then I'll be all right research-wise. And the book reviewing stuff will just happen. Right? Right.
Okay! First up: Course packs are due this week! So I've got to go make some copies.