"Break" is over.

I had ten days between the end of last term and the beginning of the short spring term I'm teaching. During those ten days, I graded. And graded. And went to a conference. And proofread a tremendous amount of text in a foreign language in preparation of its going to press. And added elegant BS to the tenure file. And tried to devote all waking hours of attention to the kids. And proofed divorce documents.

So, not really so much a break.

And I'm beginning to suspect that the schedule for completing my MS, which I've articulated and distributed to a couple of presses in my book proposal, is perhaps overly ambitious, not to say impossible. (But then, why not to say it, since it seems to be true?) I'm hoping I can get at least a little work done on it during this short spring term, and then eat and breathe 17c poetry this summer. (Except, of course, when I'm hiking, camping, and so forth with kids, and trying to remember that being a human being is more important, in the long run, than producing a book that no one is panting to read.)

In other news:

* A particular, and particularly soulful, Irish singer-songwriter is playing tonight at a club in town, opening (if you can believe that) for a couple of musicians whose recent film work has given them a high profile. It's sold out. I'm trying to plot a way to talk my way in just for the opening act, perhaps promising the bouncer that I'll leave and make room for the ticketholders when his set finishes, perhaps by contacting the opening act himself; I have a strong history of talking my way into concerts, so I'm feeling confident about that...but what to do with the kids if I can pull it off....? If I do, I'll be happy to count tonight as my "break."