Procrastadabbler

Here it is, early August, and I feel as if I’ve accomplished nothing in terms of my research and writing agenda. I did get one article off, and I fear it was terrible. It’ll be a few months before I get anything back from the editors, but I’m steeling myself for a rejection. It’s just hard. I taught the first half of summer. There are still student papers hanging out there. I did take 10 days of vacation. But I’m just having a hard time really focusing and accomplishing anything with my writing. I have lots of ideas. I have the data. I just need to focused time to write. I’m trying desperately to keep my calendar clear so that I can do so. But my days seem to fill up with trivia. I need to become more disciplined. But at the same time, I need to allow myself time to relax and play.

Maybe I should give up the delusion of being a researcher/writer and just focus on my teaching and writing nice little practitioner articles for nice little regional journals. But that’s not how I think. I think about theories and methodologies. I’m really NOT a good practitioner. I’m a decent teacher but I wouldn’t say I’m great. I don’t think the students love me (I do care about such things even if I shouldn’t).

I know I’ve written about this before. I feel like a broken record (for those of you who are old enough to remember what a deep scratch will do to vinyl).

I don’t know. I’m at war with myself. I love research and writing, but I doubt that I’m good enough to make it in that world, or even that I have something worthwhile to say. I also wonder, why should I be concerned about such things so late in life. For heaven’s sake, many people my age are thinking about or are retiring. Both my brothers are, and they aren’t all that much older than me. Yet here I am, worried about career growth. Why can’t I be happy and just coast along?

So, the question is, should I give up trying to research and publish anything of significance in journals of significance? Or should I scale back and relax?

There’s a house I found in my dream city. It’s on 1/2 acre with a tremendous view. The house itself is tiny 650 square feet. But it’s adorable. It has built in book shelves all over the place. Could I scale back my life to live in such a space? I need to step back and prioritize.

My son is getting married. He lives on the other coast. He won’t be moving back here ever, I’m sure. It makes me sad to think that I might be the grandmother that my grandchildren don’t really know. I don’t want that. What am I willing to do to be part of my children’s/grandchildren’s lives?

Sigh.