A space to reflect on my readings and musings, scattered and rescattered



This might seem like a little thing to some people but to me it's not. I submitted a fellowship/grant application today a full three and a half hours before the deadline. Usually, it's not even a full three minutes, sometimes hardly three seconds. I'm a deadline hound. I need them. I write for them and meet them. I have to have them. I crave them like people crave caffeine and chocolate. Deadlines help me focus. They create priorities. They create of a sense of what I have to do at that moment, so I actually sit down and direct all of my energy one way. It's pretty awesome. I mean, I develop aches and pains and put my body through hell for a short period of time, but when I finally meet that deadline, it is sweet. To be so harried and frustrated but then calm--all at once.

Today was something new. I didn't have that roller coaster ride thrill. I didn't submit a patchwork disaster salvaged only by the clock and inhumane working hours. I actually submitted a piece of writing--like 12 pages--of which I was proud. Writing that involved research and restructing. Writing that my peers gave me feedback on. Writing that I don't feel afraid to read myself or embarrassed for someone else to read. That feeling of peace might just beat the thrill of the impending deadline. Yeah, so it was only three and a half hours, but, people, that's progress. That's what we're going for.


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