An editor's life for me?

It's June 28 and I am in the midst of the craziest summer of my life. I thought last summer was crazy, and it was, but it was a different kind of insanity. More focused, let's say on one gigantic earth-shattering event. Last June, our L.A. family out here closed ranks around our friends whose ten-month-old was diagnosed with a brain tumor. We all spent plenty o' time in the hospital last summer, hanging out, bringing meals to our friends, trying to help out in any way we could. It's with joy that I say things are going well for that special little boy, and we've put last summer's focused insanity behind us.

This summer is entirely unique. I mentioned in an earlier post being a workaholic, and nothing has changed. It's just that the amount of work I'm required to do is...is...well, it's astonishing. In all my 34 years, I have never worked this much. I have never slept this little. Not even during the final throes of my dissertation. Not even when I was taking my comps. Or my quals, for that matter. Hell, the only reason I'm writing this blog is because I had to be up early to work and I had a quiet moment to do something for myself. 

I won't go into details about what I'm doing because those are facts that bore even me, but I will talk about the consequences of a schedule that involves teaching, the Aspen job, the LACO job, the SPCO job, and the publishing stuff. I'm not actually complaining because, first of all, doing these things has been my choice, and I have no problem living with my decisions. Second of all, I do feel so blessed to have so many opportunities. I realize how lucky I am to have this work, and I certainly haven't forgotten how awful it was to be a temp during the summertime.

I suppose what I'm doing here is enumerating the consequences of my choices. I'm not real big on regrets (they're kindofa waste), so I suppose this is just a way to take stock of the situation.

Casualty #1 - Jeff

My one and only is getting the short end of the stick because I haven't washed a dish since we moved. I've barely unpacked, I leave everything a mess, and I'm busy all the time. We usually go to the movies at least three times a month and we've only seen two movies this summer. It ain't right. Also, I miss him.

Casualty #2 - my friends

The juggling is hard to do. I want to maintain my friendships, stay in touch with people. Maybe even hang out once in a while. It's hard to do when you have so much on your plate. I miss my friends and I know some of them wonder just what the hell is up with me half the time. I do a pretty good job of making myself available, I think. And I try to be there for them if they need me, but I know some folks have fallen through the cracks and it just kills me.

Casualty #3 - my fiction

I haven't written a word of fiction in months. *shakes head* I was supposed to really hit it hard this summer, but that has just not happened. I haven't written. Not a word. And it just hurts.

Casualty #4 - my body

This temple is falling apart. I routinely get fewer than five hours of sleep a night, and when I pull all-nighters--which I do occasionally now (and which I NEVER did in college or grad school, for that matter)--I'm so tired, I get nauseated. I often forget to eat and then wonder why I'm so hungry hours later. When I do have the opportunity to go out, I drink. My liver is NOT a happy camper right now.

Casualty #5 - the apartment

Busy-ness makes me even sloppier than usual (poor Jeff has to live in and around my insanity), and my desk is a pile of unpacked, yet unorganized stuff Jeff affectionately calls, Mt. Crappy.

I don't know when things are going to change, but they can't stay like this forever.

This alleged "summer" is crazy, but I suppose I'm just going to eat it up with a spoon and embrace it for all its chaos. Such is life. My life.