I can’t get through Flannery O’Connor’s letters. The letters are the second of the two works I have to read this month and when I go out to lunch to read them I invariably fall asleep. I’m coming to the conclusion that I might not be such a big O’Connor fan. I did like her story, “A Good Man Is Hard To Find,” which we read for the first residency, but both the collection I read this month (Everything That Rises Must Converge) and the letters have proven exceptionally dull at times.
The real trick is going to be writing these annotations I’m required to produce for each piece of writing I read during the semester. I think I did alright with the annotations the last time but a random message to the whole of the student body by the head of the program indicates that quite a few of us were, in fact, doing things wrong. I kind of wish I hadn’t read the message at all because now I’m going to second-guess both annotations I write.
The stressfulness of working, writing, and working out is wearing on me. The weekends always take too long to get here and then they always go by too damn fast. I don’t feel like I have any breaks.
I did meet with the personal trainer for the final time tonight and we worked out exactly how I’ll work out in the coming weeks. It was a great feeling to know what I’ll be doing, to be sure of what’s going on.
What is not great is that the Local Baseball Franchise (remember, I’m not allowed to say their name) is losing right now and I kinda hoped they would win. Last night I went to bed and they won so I’m thinking of trying that again. Sure, last night I went to bed when they were winning, but who’s to say that it won’t work this way too?