it's finally happened

I've hit that age where I now look back at my younger self and wistfully recall the way I used to be able to go away for a weekend trip and instantly recover. In fact, recover wouldn't even be a word I would need to use because it didn't really phase me. Now, after last weekend's trip to Michigan, I understand the exhaustion of traveling. One week later and I'm not sure I'm fully recovered. Granted, I drove, which has its perks and its disadvantages: I could come and go as I pleased, but I also had to be alert for those last six hours as I drove home.

My new unbreakable rule: One conference per semester at most.

I hate that I haven't even been able to look at my notes from the conference. I hate this feeling of being backed up, and I especially hate this feeling of not working on a larger project. I mean, I guess I am working on the book because everything I do ultimately leads back to it and it's percolating in this noggin o' mine, but I'm not sitting for extended periods of time and just writing. Anxious.

In the grad class the other night, we were talking about internalized supervision and discipline. I think I've got that one down. Jesus H.