November 21, 2016

Did well by rising long before dawn and heading for the Racquet Club to do my weights. Feel young and energized. Exercise and ibuprofin may just get me through.
   
Most time spent getting The Lexington Tract into shape. I feel some sort of tangle there, but will proceed faithfully, so if tangle there is, it won’t be my doing. At the least there’s joy in reading a well-turned sentence one has turned oneself.

Cantaria pot luck– fun, but catching me at my moment of maximum exhaustion.

Realized how much effort the department has wasted pretending that being a “rhetorician” is a real thing, separate from and superior to being a plain old writing teacher, the hours (and hours) of departmental time and energy gone finding a way to treat unequal callings as though they were equal. I asked one of the “rhetoricians” once if I were not one myself, being a writer, and she smiled indulgently and assured me that even a writer could not plumb the language deep as she did.
   
Cold and dry, a second Gobi.