This week I was reading about the importance of rest, and it occurred to me that this calendar year was so full, there wouldn’t be a moment of rest for me until next January.
Suddenly I had to question the wisdom of my plans. My current schedule had me ABD by the end of 2011, but it would also mean that I would start the fall semester totally exhausted. Here’s a quick breakdown:
Spring semester: finish coursework and start reading for comps (plus deal with snow days when daycare was closed and Liberty’s FOUR bouts with high fevers in the first two months of 2011) DONE
By end of the May intersession: crank out 27 pages of my draft comps essay DONE
June: take German translation course, teach composition, read for comps
July: teach composition, finish comps draft essay (20 more pages minimum), pack up to move
August: move, paint new place, go to Oklahoma for a week for brother’s wedding, start the fall semester
Fall semester: teach two sections of professional writing, RA for 5 hours/week, revise comps essay, read for comps, and take oral exam by semester’s end
Four days into the summer semester I finally had to face up to just how unrealistic this schedule was. Suddenly I couldn’t remember why it was so darn important to be ABD this year. Technically I have until next May. I also thought of how little time I have for relationships–both with family and friends. I thought of social and organizational obligations I’ve been ignoring. I thought of how much of Liberty’s childhood I am not recording.
Once I made the decision to e-mail my advisor about pushing everything back a couple of months (knowing she would probably be on board with that), I suddenly felt as though a life sentence had been commuted. No more heart-stopping moments when I wonder how the heck I’m going to get it all done. I was suddenly feeling that end-of-the-semester whoosh of relief that I never felt in May.
And now my fingers are itching to do something creative–sew a purse, alter a shirt, make a jewelry organizer. It’s funny how just the prospect of rest can make energy levels skyrocket.
So partly in celebration of this moment, and partly because there’s simply no time like the present, I have a new goal this summer: take just two minutes a day to post something I want to remember.
And that’s where the title of this post comes from. As of a few weeks ago, when Liberty has to wait on us for something, she holds up two fingers and says sweetly but firmly, “Two minutes! Two minutes!” When I’m working in the kitchen, she crawls up onto the back of the couch so she can see through the pass-through, and mischievously shoves those fingers in my face, saying, “Two minutes! Two minutes!” And then promptly reaches down to turn on the faucet or grab whatever is within reach. She constantly repeats the ritual no matter how many times I interrupt her explorations and demand that she crawl back down.
This morning I’m at Lakota. I left the house around 7 to bike over here for several hours of homework–hopefully making more time for fun later this weekend. My two minutes are long gone for today, so back to translating German I go!