So last night, after days considering and entering John's and Mairead's tireless and thorough copyedits, and days more of that taking every book in my fucking apartment and entering it into Chicago style, I turned in the final file (!) of Heroines to Chris and Hedi. This morning we're talking cover ideas! And tour! Exciting. People: this has been a years-long endeavor. Technically two straight years long of blogging and notebooking and rewriting and revising, etc. But then I think for as long as I worked on Mad Wife two or three years before that. So this morning, I am breathing (maybe?) a bit easier. Although I usually let myself celebrate for only a few minutes. This is how I always am. What is that? It's an illness. I mean, I posted about it on Facebook. That was my moment of punctuating. John and I hugged. I went to bed. I suppose I could have had a drink, although I've been abstaining, as wine and liquor and everything else has been absolutely decimating me the next morning, and since I've been feeling - a lot - better later - and have gotten over my acute phase of neurasthenia or what have you, I want to take it by baby steps, you know.
But I need to think about what's next. I am teaching, now - the Women and Madness class - and really enjoyed rereading Freud's case studies this weekend - that Freud, he is SUCH A TRIP. But I don't have obviously a full slate of classes. I am writing an essay on Caitlin Flanagan for The New Inquiry - I need to start work on that this morning, more than scribbling things that make me laugh in the margins of the book - although before class tonight I have to watch and tweet Gossip Girl and play with my darling puppy, so there's that. I am hoping to write more of these essays - it's funny, I feel like that's a return, but hopefully a different sort of return. I am also at work on Under the Shadow of My Roof, kind of concurrent with the essay writing. But regardless I need to figure out an occupation. Right now I am considering: public intellectual, or, upon 6 years of graduate school, if I can ever get into a program, scholarly intellectual. Or, TV critic. Or, I don't know. It all feels so uncertain, the future. I know I will have readings to do for Heroines beginning in the fall, and I will be hopefully doing some more readings with Gina Abelkop this spring and summer. I'm going to be reading in Asheville this upcoming weekend, and two New York readings next week. Everything feels full, and sort of busy. I guess that's a good thing?