Am watching horror movies ad nauseum and sliding last year’s smut story into one about longing. Smut is dull. Longing is what little I feel each day.

Longing for friends.

Longing for meaning.

Longing for to be anything but this.

By this Thursday, I am meant to give a talk about teaching as a radical welcoming-in. So maybe by Friday next I’ll rework the smut into longing.

I know no one ever said it would get easier. I just always kind of hoped it would somehow.

I found a bunch of shots on my computer of bits of the last time I taught Complex Analysis (2022). Not shots of full pages of notes. Just closeups randomly. I’ve forgotten why I did it — maybe drawings for typed notes? But here is one below.

This is my life: looking at old files on my computer and wondering why.