Submit

I finally submitted that article, approximately seven hours before it was due.

It’s either going to be really good or really awful. I basically wrote the whole thing over the course of about a week and a half, due to all the drama in my universe this summer, and I didn’t even have a chance to let someone else read over it. Pressing “submit” felt kind of like having unprotected sex with a complete stranger.
When your article is to some extent a case study about things you did at your own institution, which is named in the text, the concept of a blind peer review starts to sound a little bit ludicrous
There are no journal content management systems that are not incredibly irritating for authors. None. Not one. That includes the one we use for the two open access journals where I’m the managing editor.
Unless this article gets approved in the next two weeks, it will have no effect whatsoever on my tenure decision. I knew that going in. I still wrote it. Go figure.

I’m going to go have leftovers from last night’s delicious meal with no name now.

Randomly Sunday afternoon

No attention span. Latest stuff:

The house sale continues to be a nightmare, thanks to that fucking oil tank that we thought nine years ago would be “no big deal.” So far it’s probably cost me $15,000 and I still don’t have a clean bill of health. the buyers (and their lender) are getting nervous. So am I.
That said, the house is mostly cleared out. And the non-tank repairs came in at (slightly) under $6500, so there’s that. If I can keep expenses at this level, at least I won’t owe money at closing.
The chimney sweep was as cute as a bug’s ear. it was a lust connection.
After moving them yet again, I’m torn. Should I leave my records to someone I really like or to someone I really hate?
Finished my next article today, more or less. If I can get one or two of my librarian pals to give it a look tomorrow, I may actually get it submitted on time.
Pondering Pittsburgh for Labor Day weekend, as Toronto for Thanksgiving in October is looking much less likely.
Someone who gets it.
Best news of the week? I am once again not at Burning Man. That fact may make up for all my other stress.

Death in the news

Maybe it’s because it was fairly close (Roanoke is about a hundred miles away), or maybe it’s because I’ve known a fair number of reporters in my time, or maybe it’s because I’ve known a lot of people who work in broadcasting, but this morning’s shootings are getting to me more than these things usually do.

And what really disturbs me here is that I just typed “more than these things usually do” as if random gun violence were a pretty regular and otherwise unremarkable thing. Which, of course, it is here in America, where every crackpot gun nut in the trailer park (or on the golf course) believes himself to be a one-man “well-regulated militia.”

There’s no way in hell you can convince me that we’re going to solve this problem by arming even more people. And the next person who tries to compare this to the shootings in Charleston may get smacked for being an idiot with whom I no longer feel the need to be patient or tolerant.

It was thirty-three years ago today…

R.E.M.
Wolves, Lower (1982)

I am old.

A productive sort of Thursday

Sometimes you have to take a day or two off just to catch up with your life.

Today was that day for me. I knocked out a huge pile of things that have been hanging over my head, related to the sale of the house and to my mom. I no longer feel like everything is so out of control. And I’m thinking I may actually take a day off this weekend (and not use it to write an article like I did last weekend).

That said, the disposition of the house has been delayed, maybe for several weeks, due to a storm this week that forced the contractor to push back the oil tank removal. No comment yet from the buyers, but I think they’re pretty invested at this point and they apparently love the house, so I’m thinking things will be OK.

Got rid of a car today, and a shitload of stuff leaves tomorrow to help Habitat (or to line the pocket of the junkman). Just for reference, you can sell a car without a properly notarized title transfer in North Carolina as long as it’s for salvage and the car is more than ten years old. You apparently cannot, however, donate it or sell it to someone who may actually want to register it. As I’m all about making things as simple as possible these days, I opted for the $175 path of least resistance. The extra cash will cover one or two per cent of the oil tank removal cost.

Also for the record, no one (charity shops included) wants big, useless entertainment centers or particle-board computer desks. And Greensboro is much more advanced in its waste management program than Winston-Salem. By “advanced”, I mean that recycling is easier and everything else is generally less of a pain in the ass in Greensboro. Unfortunately, most of the stuff I need to get rid of is in Winston-Salem.

Getting rid of stuff makes me strangely happy. So I should be ecstatic tomorrow night. Maybe I’ll even splurge and do this. I saw them a couple of years ago and they do put on quite the show.