the past few days have followed the same sort of pattern with regard to my productivity; i have taken to getting up at ass o’clock (that’s eastern standard time) to work and read and get as much done as possible before everyone wakes up and i get distracted. which i do, inevitably - my ability to focus on anything i’m not already interested in decreases exponentially as people i am interested in begin tugging at the edges my concentration.

the papers. they’re being written, slowly and painfully. i’ve got perhaps another page or two to write tomorrow, and then some revising and footnoting and printing, none of which i’m looking forward to even a little bit but all of which needs to get done.

perhaps the biggest threat to my academic work this weekend is a suddenly rather urgent desire to start writing short fiction again. restraining myself. my fiction isn’t something i’d inflict on anyone lightly.