Tuesday, July 05, 2022

Tuesday midafternoon random

 * Got the final edits done on the manuscript, decided "Well, why not? Why not send it off today?" and so I e-mailed it to the editor of the journal. (Haven't heard back, but I don't expect to right away; this is a volunteer-labor journal and people have other demands on their time). But at any rate I can call that "temporarily done" (temporarily, because it will likely come back for revisions - if I'm lucky, minor revisions - and then I get another publication).

I admit, I kind of hate the whole treadmill of things in academia, where it's hard to be happy over getting a publication out because you have to be thinking about the NEXT one and I admit I would very much like to be retired and not have to do that. (I have toyed with the idea, because this is legal in my state, to retire as soon as I can, sit out the required six months, and then come back and say "hey you want a couple classes taught on an adjunct basis?" because I'd do it - as long as I wasn't expected to do service or research, teaching would be simpler. And yes, adjunct pay is terrible but as long as I didn't have to forfeit my pension during that time (I don't think you do), it would not matter). Because the teaching is what I really enjoy.

* I had been a BIT more lax about masking (not doing it in small shops or at very uncrowded times) but now our case count is rising, and knowing that Dan and Dessie have COVID - well, I'm back to masking everywhere. And I admit it: I kind of hate it now. For one thing, in our hot humid summers it is uncomfortable, at least the bigger stores have decent AC. But the other thing is, it reawakens something in  me from middle school. I was teased A LOT for how I dressed, for the fact that I had the "big" orthodontic headgear (not just a neck brace as a night brace, but a whole contraption of straps that went around my head - and sometimes, yes, I had to wear it more than just at night because my teeth didn't move fast enough). And I walk into a store in my mask and I can HEAR the mean kids at school snickering behind my back or saying rude things to my face. And yes, I know, that's a "me" thing and it's not enough to get me to unmask but.....it's a DISCOMFORT. And I feel like I have put up with enough discomfort through this whole pandemic, between this, and avoiding doing things I might want to do, and getting tested periodically when I might have had an exposure or when I am going to see someone who would get very sick if they got COVID. And it all just....well, it sucks, to use a rude word. And it doubly sucks that those of us who care enough not to want to get it or spread it have this extra discomfort and labor, and it makes me low-level angry.

* Working on (yet another) sermon for Sunday. The minister has to be out of town - family funeral. And as I said before, I'm the person most qualified and with the most comfort with public speaking, so rather than trying to draft (and pay) someone from outside, it falls to me. (If I hadn't been able to, they'd have got in a speaker, but it's okay). The Lectionary text is "The Good Samaritan" so that makes it simple; it's a familiar and (probably*) uncontroversial text

(*though perhaps in some congregations or situations, maybe no? I talked about a "modern reset" and said the Samaritan would be an ex-convict type, though they could as easily now be a transgender person or a Muslim or someone else that some branches of American society rejects)

But something I noticed that sometimes isn't emphasized in the discussions I most commonly see: helping your neighbor tends to come with a cost. For the  priest or the Levite, if the man had been dead, they would have become ritually unclean and would have had to take a seven-day break from their holy work, and done rituals for purification (Hm. Kind of like isolating after a positive COVID test....). And to the Samaritan, it cost him time and effort and ultimately money. 

And I think, yes, that's a modern failing of a lot of us: we want to feel like we're doing good, but we don't want it to cost us, and it often (usually?) does. I don't know that there's a neat answer to that other than for me to acknowledge that I don't like "costs" either - in a lot of cases I wind up not going up to people and talking or the like because I'm afraid of rejection. Or there are people that make you uncomfortable (and yes, sadly, in this world at times you might have to weigh self-preservation against being neighborly; we've seen that a few times - remember the Charleston church shooting in 2015, where the congregants welcomed in and even prayed with the person who ultimately killed some of them). And again, I don't have good answers. The older I get, the more I find a lot of things don't have answers, or don't have answers that aren't uncomfortable somehow.

* Anyway. Starting to feel cabin feverish, though this week is a bad week for trying to do anything: first of all, it's going to be death-hot (highs in the low 100s, and that's not even accounting for the heat index) and also I'm waiting on the GC to call and start planning the next (big) phase of renovation (and I am so worried that it's going to be bad, both logistically and that I might run out of money and I do NOT want a half-sided or half-fixed house. If I have to I guess I take a loan against my retirement account but I very much do not want to). 

But yes: before classes start again I need at least one day at Chickasaw. A midweek day, so hopefully it will be less horrifically crowded. (I was never good with crowds; I'm worse, now, after the pandemic). And I want to go to the nice small Chickasaw (tribal) visitor center where they have art displays and similar. 

I would also like to go to the yarn shop some time but....I know I should not be buying more yarn. (I have been VERY good these past few months though).

But yes, now that I've almost got the sewing room closet emptied out, I can see how I could knock down (probably myself) the broken shelves (or, alternatively: get a bunch of braces and fix them) and stack the boxes I bring back from the storage unit in there. (I am going to sort them aggressively, and donate a lot of fabric, I have a lot of pieces I could just donate and there's a local group that will likely take most of it)

I suspect though that most of the sorting won't happen for some time: it's too hot, and also things are still up in the air. Once I get the exterior renovations begun I'll know if I'll have ANY money left for interior ones, and I can figure out what to do in the sewing room, and then I can start sorting. (Possibly that will be an 'early fall Saturdays' activity, make a plan to sort 2-3 boxes a weekend until they're all done)

I will be glad when the house is done, though - it sounds like for the window work the guys may need to be IN the house and that both gives my inner hermit the fantods (PEOPLE? in my HOUSE?) and also makes me realize it's going to be massively disruptive because most windows have furniture near them that will need to be moved. I'm HOPING the guy can bring a big crew that can knock that part out in a couple days, and I just stay home to move stuff away from the windows, and then back, as they are finished. (Or maybe I'll get lucky and it will turn out what he feared would have to be done won't have to be, and they'll be able to just work outside).

But yes. I will need at least some kind of small day-trip type treat before the summer's over (a bit over a month now, yikes)

1 comment:

Roger Owen Green said...

The Good Samaritan gives you a LOT of room, given the fact that the OTHER is always with us. https://www.franciscanmedia.org/ask-a-franciscan/the-rift-between-jews-and-samaritans