January 30, 2005

Sunday night at my desk

It's Sunday night, 10 pm. I've had a terrific weekend but I'm tired, nicely physically tired from skiing outside in the cold fresh air all day. I just read to With-a-Why, snuggled with him until he fell asleep, and it took all my willpower to leave that warm comfy bed. I've got to stay up because I have stuff to prepare for class tomorrow. I bribed myself to do work by telling myself I could write for ten minutes -- ten minutes, no more -- and post something to my blog.

I just sat down at my desk for the first time today, and switched on the computer to see a whole bunch of nice comments on the post I wrote yesterday. I love getting comments; it's like getting letters. (Are any of you old enough to remember when friends wrote letters on paper and mailed them in envelopes, with stamps turned upside down or SWAK written across the flap?) I like being part of this blog community. I know, as I pull stuff out of my grey school bag, that I'm not alone: I know throughout this community, other people like me are preparing for class when they would rather be sleeping and promising themselves for the millionth time that next weekend, they are going to get everything done by Friday afternoon.

5 comments:

Mel said...

oh, yes, the sunday night pledges for the week ahead...I agree, the sense of community is an amazing thing. I was too late to comment on your previous post, but I'm always fascinated by your descriptions of your household...

Anonymous said...

What does SWAK mean?

I am old enough to remember when people wrote real letters, I just don't know that acronym.

I was up late grading papers last night! And blogging in between of course.

Dr.K said...

I know that one: Sealed With A Kiss. You have to kiss the envelope to make it mean anything. I never got a SWAK letter myself, but when I got older somebody actually kissed me once, and once I got a letter drenched in perfume--so that's not too bad. It made the ink run, but it smelled nice--"Enjoli", if I recall. Once, I got out of the shower and was standing in front of the sink, still damp, and my elbow hit a bottle of "Enjoli" that somebody had given my wife and that she never wore, and it hit the sink and absolutely exploded, covering me with "Enjoli" from head to toe. I got right back in the shower, but all day people were giving me funny looks. But, here's the point: Warmth is still possible over the Web, as long as we choose warm and sweet-smelling words (like Jo[e] often does). But it's true, you just can't tuck a perfume-stained email into your desk drawer and pull it out twenty-years later and still smell it, like I used to do. That letter got lost during my last move, though...too bad. Her name was Suzy.

jo(e) said...

K: Your comment made me smile.

Anon: I hope you got those papers done. (I finished some jsut minutes before class this morning.)

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