Change of Plans

I know I said I was terribly excited about the writing thing this summer. I know I said I tried hard to get in and that the writing thing was going to be the best activity that could possibly happen this summer. I know that.

What I didn't know was how horrible it was going to be: how it would be listening to the most respected minds in academia talk about research and theories about writing, how it would feel like highly specialized graduate studies in something I'm not actually enthusiastic about, and how the other participants would be either very quiet or very impressed with themselves. I didn't know that I would not be getting inspiration for how to integrate more and better writing into my classroom. Perhaps it was the chemistry of the group, because I know people who have done this same program in the past and LOVED it. I wasn't feeling it, and perhaps I was going through a rough patch personally, but I had the distinct realization that life was happening somewhere else, so I quit. That sounds more noble than it is—if not for the rough patch, I would have stuck it out, even with the sense of life's tenuous moments drifting by. But there was a piece of life similar to hell that we went through, and that facilitated the quitting.

Now I am enjoying summer vacation, something I said I didn't like. I am working on a project, though, and while I am excited to share this project, I promise this will not become a blog about the project. Promise.