Outside the window of my office, undergrads are walking to and from class in the brightness of a late summer day. It is almost eighty outside and while I am shaded by the walnut tree out my window, I can feel the energy of the day seeping in through my skin.
I didn't get much sleep last night and my back is still "out" for the fourth day running but I am overwhelmed with a sense of deep calm and pleasure. Class went well today, the students were paying attention and processing what it was I had to say about writing. I spent the afternoon fulfilling other obligations that had been pushed off for days. My inbox is empty except for the papers handed in today.
I've called my wife, made plans, called my mother and asked her how her day was. I've read a Tobias Wolff story that stirred me inside. I'm blogging now and touching the creative. I've submitted two stories to new markets. I've done a full revision on a story I'd forgotten about. The day is blasting by and I'm glad I was here to bear witness.
And...sigh.
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