Mary Tyler Moore Moment

You know the opening credits to the "Mary Tyler Moore" show? The sequence of her walking through the busy downtown streets of Minneappolis, alone in the crowd, that ultimately culminates in her throwing her hat up into the air in extreme, self-actualized jubilation? Well, there was no hat toss, but I did take a spontaneous walk through my neighborhood today. I tried reading Plato's Symposium and McMahon's "Happiness" exploration, but I am maxed out on reading for anything that requires concentration.

Anyway, I went on this walk while listening to "32 Flavors" on repeat and just felt...unobligated, for five minutes. After yesterday's birthing session of poetry revision (and yes, it does feel like labor at this point), I'm spent. I had just enough energy left to implement the changes and get them off to the prof., but I just couldn't make myself do anything more. I was and am so run down.

And while I traversed the cobblestone paths, saw the statues in the dog parks emblazoned by the sun, and noted all the dreadlocked artistic types, one refrain went through my head:

You're gonna make it after all...

After the walk, I came home and did a very little, I mean a truly negligible amount of work work, then I caught up on reading my O magazines (that have been piling up along with the last three months of "Real Simple" on the coffee table) and called Catherine ("Catchka" to the uninitiated). We talked of sociopaths (in the grad program, at her job), her own grad school aspirations, and just stuff, and it was wonderfully liberating to not force a strict intellectually-driven schedule on myself for five minutes. How freeing it was to just wash and roast carrots and potatoes for my dinner.

You know what I remembered when I took the time to not read those heady, daunting texts? I don't even need the Independent Study for credit. Clearly, I'm not about to blow it off (how ironic that I've worked harder for it, emotionally, than almost any other class)--but it gave me some much-needed perspective. So, I'll read selections from Happiness: A History and I'll give Plato's dialogue a fair perusal, but the thesis deserves my attention most right now. This week, I nail down the rest of my revisions, and then I turn it in. After Thursday the 17th, I spend the rest of the semester (about two and a half weeks) on the IS. And it is what it is. Maybe I need to give myself permission to not even try to read for the IS until this time next week. Something to think about...

You know what I predict? That when this is over I'll be utterly bereft. I haven't cared this feverishly, for anything, in a long time. Not since I was in the process of applying to the program.

This is the single best thing I've ever done for myself. I am going to make it, after all.