Summer of work

I am looking around on other folks' blogs and seeing some pretty sensible summer things going on: traveling to exotic locales (even if it involves some work), philosophical suntanning, laying down the rules for becoming the kissing bandit of the Midwest, and carousing with sailors.

And here I am planning a summer of work, and--worse yet--calling it a "summer of work." I am sure that everyone else has work to do this summer, but I am seeing my summer as primarily being about work. Yes, realistically, I do have three accepted papers to research (really, no more faking it) and to write, a new class to prep, and a p & t book to pull together. But should I be seeing this as a summer of work? I am planning (albeit anxiously) some trips. I am in (again, albeit anxiously) the middle of a new love affair. The work is not making me anxious. I am sure it will when I actually begin (currently in the planning/I-have-plenty-of-time stage of the first project), but for now the "summer of work" feels comfortable. Anything that might take me away from it is making me anxious.

Either I am a workaholic (doesn't seem right, as I have always felt I am too inherently and happily lazy to be classified as such) or . . .I am actually looking forward to the research and writing. Gasp. This feels true. I have been craving long uninterrupted periods of time to work on my own stuff all year. What have I become? Again, what happened to the rockstar? [Note: The rockstar is still apt to drink whiskey all night and end up quite irresponsibly naked, so do not think this signifies some moral repositioning of a younger self by an older self.]

I will be happy about the good summertime feelings toward the summer of work as long as they last. It will be great. I will leisurely read and think about all of the critical material I did not have time to read and think about this year. I will take long walks and long naps (and still have time to read and think). I will have time to write thoughtfully and revise carefully. I will meet my friends at the pub each night after producing x number of excellent pages each day. I will be delighted. My editors will be delighted. I will have time leftover to plan/revamp classes, order books, read all new material, and devise strategies for a fall semester of ease. My p & t book will come together flawlessly, and it will be impressive to all . . . Hmmmmm, I think we can all see where this is going. Let a girl dream.