After a considerable lull, I am back to being somewhat busy. It’s not the crazy busy I was at this time last year, this is a more manageable-with-medication busy. Except the medication is cold medicine and not the Dear-G0d-will-someone-take-her-down- with-tranquilizers-prescriptions. I have been substituting a lot at one particular school (four days this week and I hear from the principal that teachers are starting to request me.) I even heard a kid woo-hoo with delight that I was going to indeed be their sub for the day.
It’s all well and good, and is keeping me solvent and able to keep Samantha and the Other Cat fed. (OC doesn’t actually live here, he just strolls by in the morning and if he sees movement in the kitchen he sits calmly on the porch and stares in at me until I take the hint and go out and put food in the dish, then he ambles by and feigns surprise that their just happens to food on offer for a cat such as he.)
I am writing a lot, mostly in longhand. As I have said, like Harold Lauder, I save the best of myself for longhand. I have had many bursts of inspiration as I observe and supervise students. I am taking copious notes, so rest assured that I will be able to wax idiotic on several topics once I slow down a bit.
I am very good at taking notes. I’m not sure which teacher is responisble for teaching me this skill. I know note taking while reading came from Mrs. Koziol, so I’m fairly certain that my note taking setting was installed by Sister Collette Ross in the Seventh Grade (Note to self, there is a huge story in my whole seventh grade year. Revelation: this was a watershed year for me.)
I once took notes in my sleep when I was a Freshman in College. It was in American History and it was a staggering series of sentences about Thomas Jefferson taking a turkey for a walk. I’m sure that is a window into my madness. I honed my note taking skills in Grad school, where my scholarly attitude to class assignments during production week was the envy of all of my fellow students. (In fact it set the bar for one particular class. Every other student had to read at least as far as I had gotten in the Dramatic Criticism and Theory text and take “salient notes”. I was the most popular, exhausted student in the class. I vaguely remember sitting in the Green Room at Texas Woman’s Unveristy as everyone else clamored for a peek at my notes. As we discussed them, one person said, “There is a word I didn’t understand.” I said, ” Tenet. It means a principle or belief, as in ,Tenets of Graduate Students should include intellectual curiousity.’ “)
I may be tangential, but I am well punctuated.