Tag: anhedonia

The Beginning of the Year

Summer’s end and the New Year

It’s officially the end of my summer. As I’ve said before in these pages, my life goes by the academic calendar. Summer starts about the second week of May, when my schedule becomes more languid. Autumn, and the beginning of my year, starts on the first day of school in the fall.

The semester’s beginning

Photo by Any Lane on Pexels.com

I go to meetings tomorrow through Tuesday, and then it’s time for classes. I think I’m ready, and I think I’m rested. I think I can clean my office this weekend (the ritual start to the school year). I’m as ready as I can be — with 27 years at this, I think I know what I’m doing. I’m not feeling that rush I feel at the beginning of the fall semester, though. Maybe it’s because I’ve been teaching for almost 30 years (more than that if you count grad school).

Maybe it’s because I’m not going to the beginning of semester picnic, because it’s going to be a couple hundred people and held indoors (so are the beginning of semester meetings, which doesn’t make me happy as I can’t avoid them.)

The rush may come back to me when I stay up for the fireworks next Tuesday, or when I’m back in the classroom, even with all of those masks in the seats (we’re masking again due to the delta variant of COVID).

How to find the thrill

I’m going to find something new to motivate for the school year. Maybe frame one of the three or so posters for my office. Maybe bring in some coffee for my office coffeemaker (a Nespresso). Maybe get my nails done in Bearcat green.

I’m looking for the shine of a shiny new year. Make suggestions for me.

People Move Away and Time Flows On

People move away

I’m having coffee with a friend today. She will be moving to Arizona soon to enjoy her retirement in new surroundings. I don’t blame her; this is not a good town to retire in.

Coffee morning concept, coffee cup with small dish putting on old plank together with stack of notebook over forest outside as background.

We haven’t seen each other in the longest time because of COVID, but we’ve corresponded online in that somewhat indirect way allowed by Facebook. She participates in community band and runs marathons. I, on the other hand, write and self-publish, hoping to get some of my work traditionally published.

Our coffee date will no doubt be a way to catch up and, in a way, to get closure even with Facebook as a medium of exchange. She is embarking on an adventure.

Time flows on without me

I admit I’m jealous of my friend. I have been caught in gaffa (as in the Kate Bush song) for so long, with my writing, my adventures only in books. I used to ask God, “What am I called to do?” but got no tingling that told me what direction to go. I’m not getting too much excitement from writing these days. Nothing is calling me on a quest. No serendipity calls my name, and when I think it does, it falls flat.

I have spoken about this before. I don’t know if this anhedonia is something normal people feel, or if I’m just comparing this pale mood with the elations and depressions I felt before I was diagnosed with bipolar II.

But I’m looking for a quest, a re-energization within COVID, a pleasant surprise, a story to tell as I tell my friend goodbye.