It’s time to get into gear—the next week is going to involve a lot of writing. I can’t say this is exactly bad: writing papers on things that interest me and that I’m passionate about is, after all, really pretty great as a “job” (albeit an extremely poorly paid one…) it’s just the stress of wanting to articulate things clearly, and unknotting all the tangled thoughts that surround the writing process. Especially when it’s these critical papers. Once I’m there doing it, it’s really very pleasurable—but there are so many things I find to do before sitting down. That period of settling to write is the most stressful part! Plus I have a creative piece I want to try to put down on paper this weekend. And a birthday party to attend as well. So this weekend should see about 5000 words and a few glasses of wine if all goes according to plan.

The weather is suddenly glorious. Flowers are everywhere. I wander around and see tulips, daffodils, pansies, bluebells… It’s hard to imagine being unhappy when the days are like this. I think everyone is, like me, trying to find strategies to study where we can either be outside or close enough to outside that it’s just about the same. The daffodils, especially, have had me thinking about Wordsworth. A small bout of hayfever had me on the same track—I used to want to write an essay about the Romantics (especially W.W. and Dorothy) and their walks around the natural world, and to make the point that clearly they didn’t suffer from hayfever. The problem is that there’s not a lot else to say than just that! I’m settling down. I think it was just the sudden decisive swing to perfect weather that threw my body off. Now I feel happy.

So: the day must go on. Imagine! In a few short weeks I’ll be able to travel, read anything I like, write poems and other bits and pieces. I’ll be at leisure! How delightfully irresponsible. I wonder how many projects I’ll make up for myself?