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.