Eight weeks to go in the semester. This last week was Spring Break. I had to make a tradeoff between work and writing.
I could have written this week and satisfied my creative urges, or I could have worked on my classes, and my honey do’s. What did I do. Worked on my classes and spring gardening. By doing so, I will be open most nights and weekends for the rest of the semester.
Hopefully, I can catch up on editing work as far back as November a year ago and continue working on new projects. I have promised myself I will not get over committed at the university again.
After almost two years of over commitment, I am happy to slow down everything except my creative writing which has suffered because I couldn’t say no to my colleagues who told me how badly they needed me back in the classroom. If I’m not available, they will find someone. So, I’m no longer available.
I am acutely aware that no one made me agree to the commitments I made, but I’m easily hooked by deans and department heads who look heartbroken when I tell them I’m not going to teach anymore. Whey they start with their, “what am I going to do?” I start backpedaling.
I was ready for them this semester. When one a Dr. H. said, “I know this has been a tough semester. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t teach for us again.” I took the opportunity and said, “That’s good, because…”
A few days later she asked me if I would reconsider. I told her no. Still, I’m a little disappointed I didn’t tell the other department chair I would teach no more. She has a St. Bernard puppy dog look. Those sad eyes got me once again.
But, I’m down to a manageable one class, and that one requires no preparation.