A schedule

As part of scheduling office hours and deciding when I will be available by appointment, I made a 60-hour, 5-day per week schedule for myself. What I learned was that even planning on the basis of a 12-hour day, it is hard to find free time. I scheduled:

⊕ 23 hours of  research and writing. This is the most I would be able to do in a week of 12-hour days, and it will be cut into by routine medical appointments, routine home maintenance appointments, and routine faculty meetings, as well as reading for courses at times. Therefore nothing else can be scheduled during these hours. I am contractually expected to spend 12 hours a week on research and writing and for good reason I believe I must plan to protect 23 hours if I am to make sure I get my 12.

⊕ 12 hours of classes (yes, I am teaching an overload, as proactive self-protection).

⊕ 9 hours of office hours and standing student meetings, during which time I will also do some course preparation.

⊕ 9 hours of other standing meetings, some of which are for university committees and some of which are for outside activities — but which are standing.

⊕ 1 hour in which I am available by appointment.

⊕ 6 hours of lunch, breaks, and transit, during which I cannot be available.

This schedule involves rising at 5 AM. It involves working out in the evening every day but Thursday. It involves gardening Friday evenings. It involves grading on Saturdays. It could involve writing on Saturday night. It should involve excursions on Sundays, which could be out-of-town library excursions or not.

It involves having many groceries in the house that allow for simple meal preparation, and/or cooking in large quantities so as to have planned leftovers. It involves not letting anyone else waste any of my time, and even so, I do note that one must struggle and be economical to even get a 40-hour week, let alone my planned 50-to-60 hour one.

Finally, I want to say that I do not like the numbers 41-59. I would prefer to work 40 hours or fewer (the leisurely schedule) or 60 or more (the exciting one). To work between 41 and 59 hours is a sign of drudgery, I think, and I think that any time above 40 hours should be put to research.

Axé.

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Allons voir comment je vais y aller

Le plan:

Monday

Resolve a textbook issue for Spanish 202 and make sure I have the draft syllabus available to me on the office computer as well as the home one. Write the first lecture for Spanish 462. Work on LASA this evening. Research got killed today and it is a problem since I am on deadline. Also, I did not get to work out, and I need to get my nails done. And all my brilliant work on Spanish 462 is going to go to naught for unbloggable reasons. The meaning of it all: “a los estudiantes dales tu talento, pero no tu brillantez” (as someone told me once long ago).

Tuesday

Work on LASA even though the syllabi need more work. Finish the syllabus for Spanish 202. The websites, all of them, for Spanish 202 need real work and the 316 iLRN website has to be set up still. I will remember these things and work on them as I work on the paper syllabi. I will keep working on LASA in the evening. (This really needs to be done.)
Monday’s research happened, but otherwise all I did was teach. I am behind.

Wednesday

I will finish the syllabus for Spanish 316 and finish the LASA thing, I really hope (if I have not done so already).  I will make sure all of the other syllabi and websites are finished. I will chase down an arborist and my door-maker.

Thursday

I will teach, and work out between classes. I will finish anything from above that is not finished so far.

Friday

There is someone in L.A. I must call. I must finish work on my vita and two bureaucratic documents, and on student papers I have not finished commenting upon. These things need to be done SOON.

Monday 29

Write the second lecture for Spanish 462.

Axé.

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La psychanalyse

Mais c’est si clair. I feel guilty and nervous about doing work because I know I will be interrupted as soon as I really start.

It all had to do with the self serving agenda of others. “Your work is just play, and you will see that relatively soon. Your real role is to serve me, and I am also the only one who can and will support you when your work becomes serious and you are sidelined from it. Serving me, not becoming expert at something that challenges me, is your first and only real duty — and everyone else already knows it is all you are capable of.”

This is why I feel people have a right to disrupt work. It is also why I do not like to start work — if I start, I will continue, and if I continue, I will experience a very great violation to get me to stop. To avoid repeating this experience of violation, it is best not to start.

Axé.

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Miguel de Cervantes

“It appears to me,” said Don Quixote, “that translating from one language into another . . . is like gazing at a Flemish tapestry with the wrong side out: even though the figures are visible, they are full of threads that obscure the view and are not bright and smooth as when seen from the other side.”

Axé.

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Alan Mills

A great and new to me Guatemalan poet. Ricosabrosodeliciosoyexquisito. It is the tenth anniversary of my move to WordPress, and I have no readers left because weblogs are passé, but we will sing.

lo escupo así pelado y sin pelos en la lengua, quién dijo miedo atrás de un palo, se los dejo ir así nomás porque ya no iba a soportar ningún encierro, ni alegrón de burro, “humillación” es una melodía que ya no me gusta, shic, shicsabros, xicsabrosdelicios, shicsabrosdeliciosquisit, qué xic, ay qué shique, qué shic tu mic, xic tu cul, shic tu pus, tu cuc mamit, shic tu chich, ay, “mi shumita de oro” me llamaste, remedabas mi habla, lengua torciéndose en ampollas cuando intenta tu Castilla, me soplaste a la oreja tantos avernos y sueros alcohólicos, risa y risa, puras burlas sos, la pura gana de chingarme, típico mal del hijo del sol, Tonatiú pisado, canchón de río, rubio por gusto, sin alcurnia ni linaje ni nobleza ni nada, por eso lo que te gusta es transar, ser amigo de los más malvados y peludos, xic, así andás mostrando el sombrero o el grillo de coca y ese es todo el orgullo que va a poder nacerte de tu enfermedad, sombrerudo mierda, shic decís, shictuchich decís con baba escurriendo en mi espalda y mis sentaderas, xicsabros y pura baba, te reís, remedás mi hablado, te cagan de risa los ancestros en mi sangre, shictumic, purO burla le das a mis decires, mi mala Castilla, shicdelicios, pero ahí te gusta estar, ahí bien apunuscado entre mi pusite xicsabros y los pelos, el aroma a camarón, sí, te sentís gallito por tus cuates, maldición del monte, pero conmigo sos otra cosa, por ratos te portás manso, mientras voy olvidando todo lo que perdí en la aldea, desde los animales hasta los aparecidos, hasta los desaparecidos con los que sigo hablando, sí, me siento valiente por ratos, shic, por ratos sí y por ratos no, pero tengo más huevos que vos, canchito pisado, shictuculmamit, xicsabros, y la metías bien duro, trababas los ojos como yegua y pateaste todo el recuerdo de mi familia, ay, no te dan vergüenza esos dientes, tan shucos, amarillos, amazorcados y llenos de hoyo, es que ya ni planta de cuque tenés, ya nosos el soldadito mamado que conocí en el Parque Central, adonde andabas cazando, adonde me agarrarías en un día buena onda, porque los días que andabas mala onda con tus cuates se ponían a violar, se decían “juguemos trompo” y la onda era jalar a las indias y hacerlas dar vuelta sin el corte, a varias muchachas les tocó su shictucul masivo, las subían a un pick-up y hacías fila, me contaste, bolo, apestoso a cerveza, hacían fila y los excitaban los alaridos de angustia más el sudor de tu escuadra, ni el humor a guaro te hizo la idea de que eso no me lo tenías que contar a mí, en tu borrachera pensaste que risa me iba a dar, pero ya vas, para mí ya no valés nada, cuero malo y ladino, ya no me eriza el recuerdo de tu boina roja y tu emblema guerrero, ya ni siquiera le dan alegría a mi corazón los pensamientos con tu carita de chucho colorado, perro hambriento que moría encima de mí, te vi por un lado sacando la lengua, puro chucho, perro de la calle, shictucul, xictumic, shicsabrosdelicios, shictupusmamit

Poetry is sound, but this is also on video.

Axé.

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A estas horas

Today I submitted an application for the PEN/Heim Translation Prize, in 18,000 words. Pachamama, Pallas Athena, Iansan, old father, all artificers, stand me now in good stead.

Axé.

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“When you are in love, you want to live forever”

Quelqu’un a dit ça.

I, of course, almost always want to live forever.

Axé.

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