You’re a Mean One, Mister Murk

So Christmas is over, right? Did we decide to start early and finish late? I mean, if we’re going to start the Christmas season back when I’m still hiding in my house with the lights out while goblins and pirates yell “Trick or treat!” at my front door, then it can't last until the end of the year.

Not according to Starbucks, an unavoidable establishment with its own radio station, one still playing a selection of Christmas tunes. And not according to my neighbors, who have left their inflated, mechanized yard decorations up. When I say inflated, I mean what marketers generally call inflatable. However, “inflatable” implies that at some point the reindeer carousel inside the puffy snow globe will be deflated, and I have come to the pained realization that it never will. It must be Christmas magic. It does not—will not—ever diminish.

Not the same one, but you get the idea. This example
and an accompanying article can be found here.

Still, at least this repeated encounter with outdoor decoration points out another area for self-improvement. The signs are all there, the main one being that today I caught myself, as I fidgeted and prepared to pull my car away from the curb, suddenly saying aloud to the absent owners of the mechanized child's fantasy, “You better shut that fucker off and take it inside before I sharpen a broom handle and pop it for you.”

At least I didn’t actually say it to the owners. But in a way that makes it even sadder, because I’m the only one who has to suffer my invective. And I’m the only one who feels like the idiot glaring at the plastic penguin riding the plastic reindeer. According to Johnny Rotten, anger is an energy. Anger with no object but a fake penguin doomed to ride in a circle for eternity, though—that could be the first rant of a month-long tirade ending with the shuffle of feet clad in Kleenex boxes.

December List-Making Mania

It’s the end-of-year assessment party, and I am invited.

Well, that’s pretty broad. Let’s make it the December assessment party. Besides, end-of-year assessments sometimes lead to those Next year better be [insert adjective indicating improvement]! statements that I have learned to avoid. I declared at the end of 2004, I proclaimed at the end of 2005, I intoned at the end of 2006. Now, nearing the end of 2007, I’m humble. Next year…well, we’ll just deal with it as it comes, okay?

In keeping with end-of-year impulses, I’m doing some much-needed room-straightening. While going through several boxes that I have had left to unpack since my last move (June 2007) and my previous move (October 2005) and so on, too far back for dignity, I was struck by both my habit of saving things that I don’t need (copies of grade reports that I submitted in 1999) and my penchant for making lists. It seems appropriate, then, in order to slip back into general posting mode, to sum up the last few weeks in the form of a list.

Here’s what I’ve done since my last post:

Got a new job. In one madcap week I got the call, did the interview, had the follow-up calls, got the offer letter, signed it, and faxed it back before anything could change. It still seems a bit unreal. I start the 14th of January. I had planned to take the position as long as they matched my current salary, and then they offered me a salary that, jaw-droppingly, could encompass my current salary and an extra starting salary, in addition to offering full medical, dental, and monthly commuter benefits. Plus, it’s two miles from my house. So, yeah, I took that new job, you betcha.

Took notes on seven books for my dissertation. Granted, I had read them already, but still—that’s a lot of notes.

Traveled to New Orleans for five days. I met with my dissertation chair and pitched my plan for finishing. Everything looks good. I had a moment’s scare when the department’s administrative assistant told me that my chair was on leave. But she is on leave in town, so it actually falls into place fairly handily. Now I just need to work frantically, fiercely, and steadily—emphasis on steadily.

Did not drink any alcohol. I have not done so since the 4th of July. I don’t get to until I finish the full draft of my dissertation. That’s my superstitious deal with myself. Since I have 250 finished pages done and about 100 pages of freewriting waiting for transformation, that should be within reach. However, I mean a real full draft. Something past the rough stage, formatted, that I think is ready for defense. At times, just to be sure, I consider waiting to break the alcohol fast until the defense is done. I often struggle against my essentially superstitious personality, but this may be one time to give in to the impulse.

Had three long, tedious dreams about funerals. Actually, one was about trying to get to a funeral that I could never find. It’s not surprising—I’ve been to a lot of funerals in the last few years.

Made a number of resolutions for 2008—somewhere between four and seven. I’m assuming that the figure will solidify by the crucial date.

Worked on a new Katrina-evacuation post called “The Legend of Bucks and Bears.” However, it was getting too long, so I decided to split it into two posts. One will keep the previous title, and the other will be called “We Took to the Trees and Timbers.”

Those are the basics. I’ve also done many other scattered things: hoped that the Check Engine light on my car is, as in times past, nothing to worry about, or nothing that will be a concern before the next paycheck; played with my cat and dogs; had a two-minute conversation with a woman on whom I have a crush (…anndd…clear! I’m out, and no damage done!); and obsessively checked the wmata.com website for every possible transit option between my house and my new job.

All in all, not too bad. That end-of-year assessment impulse isn’t making me as uncomfortable as it has the last few years. I’ll still avoid any demands for 2008. Let’s just see how it goes.