Where I'm going...

I began the new year with bronchitis, and I can't seem to break out of the funk of being sick. I sit down to write, but find myself wandering to other tasks instead. I've been reading new books (and old), but I feel guilty for not writing. I lost my Grandfather on Thanksgiving Day, and my Grandmother has been in the hospital, so needless to say, my mind has been elsewhere. After my Grandfather passed away, I began to write about my memories of him, which turned out to be a good way of dealing with my grief,  but since Christmas, I've slowed down...almost skidded to a halt.

The weather has been ridiculous over the past couple of months, alternating between warm days (70 degrees) and cool days (39 degrees). It rained for 4 days straight until it flooded, and then snowed on Thursday, shutting down schools and roads. The snow began to melt before the day was up. Mother Nature's mood swings are reflecting my own. Up and down, unable to decide where to be and how long to be there. Grief is the writer's bane, or it has been mine anyway.

Sometime next month, I will be choosing classes for my last summer at the Sewanee School of Letters. I'm forced to take Shakespeare and a literature in translation course, and I (unwisely) saved those two classes for last. As sacrilegious as it sounds, I'm not a Shakespeare fan, but perhaps this summer will cure me. It will either cure me or make me hate Shakespeare more, one way or the other. I can't tell you why I don't like Shakespeare. Maybe it's because I despise plays? I don't mind his sonnets, just the plays (the major body of his work).

So, while I'm deciding what to do and how to do it, I'll be researching for my upcoming thesis and reading books that are beginning to pile up.