The Weather Wakes the Glum

'Tis the season in which the weather wakes the Glum. When I lived in That Place, I was certain either the sinus problems or the depression that come with this time of year would kill me. I was certain. I also remember the first time I heard of seasonal affective disorder. "S. A. D.?" I said, "sad? You've got to be kidding me." Whether there is any medical evidence, such as melatonin or serotonin or whatever brain juice balance necessary to keep you from curling up in the fetal position and gorging on chocolate, I have no idea, but it certainly feels real.

Then, of course, all of the grading that hits like an avalanche and makes my entire existence feel so futile. All of this time and sanity invested in teaching for so little pay off, and so much time taken away from my research. I despair. The only way that I can make the research move forward is to commit to something like a book review (of a book that relates to my research) or a paper or something of that sort so that I have a deadline and the fear of falling flat on my face to motivate me. So far, it has worked this semester. I have almost a whole chapter done, plus bits of others, simply by agreeing to give a paper on one of my women. I also was able to articulate some of my methods better by reviewing a book taking on similar methods.

Still, I have determined that only certain days of the week get the teaching and service time, the rest are mine for research and writing; and keeping it thus has been a monumental battle that has me completely exhausted. Worse, on the research days, I feel unentitled to research because there is ever more teaching to do. I want to research, but haven't overcome the feeling that it is a hobby rather than actual work since it isn't part of the job for which I am being paid. The closest justification that I can find is that I am supposed to be contributing to my profession, and writing a book is doing just that. I have to get over this feeling.

Meanwhile, I feel I should adjust some of my public statements about my two PITA colleagues. They are PITAs, but they aren't bad people and, indeed, aren't even bitchy. For instance, they both may be colossally unorganized and do things at half-past the last second; one may be unable to clearly delineate roles in joint projects and the other may be so self-focused that she has no idea that she runs rough-shod over other people, but neither blow up in anger, yelling and shouting, and blaming other people. I brace myself for it because I've run into so many who are like that, but the storm never comes. That's a mercy.

Of course, I have no idea what they are saying out of my hearing. They could each have blogs out there on which they are writing "that damn Clio, thinking she's better than everyone else! She's such a loner, never helping out!" Something like that.

Anyway, I'll give it to the Diva: she wants our programs to be academic, not inspirational, which is a struggle at our college since a lot of our students do need inspiration, too, and Women's History Month or Black History Month can easily turn into rah-rah church services focused on achievers rather than educational programs. She doesn't see that as our job. Our job is to be scholarly and provide access to scholarly programs and resources. I can get on board with that, even if I don't agree with some of the specifics.

For example, while I don't really think the Semi-famous Author that she has invited to our campus is the best use of our resources in relation to our students, Semi-famous Author is of some literary significance. In fact, I've gradually learned that she has an enormous appeal among women of a certain generation, women who are the majority of our English faculty, all of whom are very excited that she will be speaking to our campus. We may not have any students attend -- or only students who are most desperate for extra credit -- but faculty will definitely be there. I hope I'm wrong on the students, too.

Also, I'll give it to the Diva that she has a lot of very competent people around her and she is grateful for them. She isn't a micromanager. I also figured out that, when things have to be done, since she isn't good at clearly delineating roles, all you have to do is delineate your own. For instance, when I realized that she hadn't begun the publicity on this speaker, and that she was floundering about in getting it moving forward, I just said, "I'll do this," and listed the ways that I publicize my own events. She was very relieved and I took control of that part of the situation. She was very grateful, not at all nasty nor threatened. This is a good thing. I've worked with people who try to undermine competent people because they are afraid that the competent people will get recognition and they themselves will be pushed aside. The opposite seems to be the case here.

Oddly, I think I like a more hierarchical management style. Maybe that's not the right word. I like management in which roles and jobs are clear. In this pseudo-administrative role, I've never been clear as to what I should be doing or what is expected of me. Some of that, I admit, I do like in that I can kind of do my own thing. I'm a loner that way; but when I have to coordinate with the other campus, I'm at a loss and feel kind of unaware of things that I might should be aware of. So, I just go about my own thing, but worry that my own thing will come back to bite me. That worrying, however, is my own issue.

As for the other PITA, well, I've been warned that no amount of anything will change her. She can take a few semi-subtle hints, but only for so long, so I've learned that heading her off helps reduce my own frustration. When you are junior, you sort of have to do that. Meanwhile, since she is a writing teacher, I'm trying to learn more about how they teach writing in order to incorporate their techniques into my classes without actually committing to teaching writing -- I do have the whole of history to teach, after all!

Anyway, I feel a bit emotionally worn out this week, so I'm glad this is our break. I do wish I were somewhere futher south for the week, somewhere with clear blue water, clear blue sky, and rum-based beverages at the end of the day. Alas, gray and snow will have to do, and are probably the perfect weather for grading since I won't feel like I'm missing out on any lovely lolling, as lovely as lolling will be. Also, I know that, when I return home, the forsythia will have exploded in spectacular celebration. I saw their preparations before I left.