Lift

Jess calls a kind of malaise that sets in during periods of moving and transition, fittingly enough, "Transition Keith." I can get irritable, depressed, and annoyed at stupid things. I'm usually not like that at all.

And it gets worse because I know I'm acting like that and have a hard time combating it. I think it was delayed this time around; it's almost been two months since we got here, and I think it set in at the end of last week.

I also keep forgetting that there's been a bit of a whirlwind the last three months, so the delay makes sense I suppose. I guess I had too much to think about, so much that there was no real rumination.

But the first semester at a new place is always tough. And considering I remember how awful my first few months at VCU were, that alone is able to take me away from the funk a bit, because things have been much better than that here.

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The Giants are 4-0 for the second year in a row, but the injury bug seems to be biting again. Here's to being healthy and the streak continuing.

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I'm looking to work on a new project as far poems go, but right now I'm not sure what it's going to be. Sometimes when I'm not writing I feel, probably unnecessarily, guilty. It's silly, but it happens.

There was a period after I felt Ghost Lights was completed where I pretty much knew it was either going to get published in a handful of years or I'd burn it and forget about it. I knew that because I wasn't writing poems that would fit in that particular book, and I felt like I couldn't write poems that would ever fit in that book. Poet maturation? Not sure.

But the same thing has happened now. What I mean is, once you start parodying yourself unnecessarily, or you're writing watered-down versions of better poems that you immediately know are better, that seems like a good sign that it's time to move on to a new project. I'm repeating what I did for Ghost Lights, though I don't think I'll burn this one if it eventually keeps floating in the poetic void. I have more faith this time around.

At least it seems to be my litmus test so far. But there's nothing wrong with relaxing and letting stuff swim around in your head. I feel like forcing words right now will just make me lose a little zealousness, and I don't want to do that. But I say things like that a lot, and then the poems seem to arrive. Maybe I just jinxed myself.

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Thinking about the job market also has me a little crazy. I know I have four years until I really have to think about that, but there's still a lot of pressure. Hopefully good pressure.

There are folks that have many more credentials than I do, and there are barely any 5/5 teaching load non-tenure track composition jobs available that pay less than $40,000 a year. Would I do that if I had to? Of course. I know I'm not going to get something fantastic right out of school, if I get anything right out of school.

And though I do tend to be pessimistic, hopefully things are on the upswing in academia and the economy and the tandem of both working together. Four years, though not a long time really, tends to be pendulous in the ways it can swing in a small amount of time, especially in academia.

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A lot of music. A lot of movies. I'll try to post something coherent about what you should be listening to and watching next time.