The summer has it’s seven mile boots on and is striding towards it’s end. I can’t believe that in two weeks time I’ll be back in lecturer mode.
As a child I loved the back-to-school excitement, I loved buying new pens, pencils and notepads, new stationary has always tickled my fancy. I would colour-code my folders and pack and repack my school-bag, loving the sensation of a purpose.
Now, with time sprinting through my hands and my “still-need-to-do-list” is not getting any smaller, I am looking towards my back-to-school moment with a little sense of stress. And I don’t even have new pens, pencils or notebooks to sweeten the deal.
But while I know that my summer is quickly fading I do have to admit that a small part of me is looking forward to a routine, time-slots that punctuate the days and weeks, like beacons, guiding me through the autumn and winter, all the way up towards the new year.
However, this also means that I’ll have less time to work on my book. And while I have been trying to finish the first draft in time for school, the days are quickly fading and my typing fingers and imagination are struggling to catch up.
I only hope that the next two weeks allow me enough time to spend with my manuscript, to at the very least be able to see “The End”. But with college scheduling meetings and other friendly projects littering my inbox I am unsure how many minutes will be mine.
So with this cocktail of emotions and thoughts my back-to-school sensation lingers somewhere between stress and excitement, and my promise to myself for these next two weeks is to try and use every second as well as I can.
With every book, you go back to school. You become a student. You become an investigative reporter. You spend a little time learning what it’s like to live in someone else’s shoes.
Author John Irving