Some of you may be familiar with my disappearances from the blogosphere once a quarter.  Ok, let’s face it, recent disappearances have been far more frequent than once a quarter.  But in the past, when I was actually posting one or more times a day, the one to two week absences were more disturbing and unusual.  Usually such hiatuses (hiati?) were due the periods of intense work stress I came under due to quarterly reporting to our governing trustees.  There is a big meeting that I did much of the logistics work for, plus the proofing and assembly of 350-400 page meeting material books.  While I would not consider quarterly reports the pinnacle of my literary achievement (more on that later.  and by later, I mean in a different post, possibly on some other day), I am generally proud of the work I do on them.  I am a good editor, and this is one of the few times I get to use a skill of my own that I enjoy for something that I know is important to the functioning of the office.

And now, that important feeling for me is coming to a close.  For those of you who don’t know, I’ll be moving to Portland to start law school this fall.  No longer will I be a lowly Administrative Assistant at the ‘Glove, but will instead be a legal jargonese pirate somewhere to the far West.  This is my last period of headless chicken running around at the office, and it’s made me somewhat nostalgic and a little sad.  True, this being the last book has also considerably relieved my usual stress.  If I really mess up on the book itself, or the scheduling, or accidentally come to work naked by mistake, I never have to see any of the Board members ever again.  I’m free from some of the stress of making my edits ‘perfect’, because in another little while, people will forget I ever even worked on these things.  I sit here, a few hours early, with everything complete and in order, and I’m not even tempted to take a final look-through for mistakes.

Three hours later….

Ok, ok, I’m a perfectionist.  I couldn’t help but look.  And there were errors.  But now, finally, and at last, I’ve turned in the final version to the printer and I will never do another Board Book in my life.  Oh.  Wait.  Let’s just change where I said ‘final version’ back there to ‘version three’ so I can make two more corrections.  Ehum.  I think I’m having a minor heart attack.

Stress sonnet – Let’s go Petrarchan.

I like to think I work to better man.

I like to think my impact could be great,

Yet somehow fetid boredom is my state

Despite my challenge to myself to stand.

I am not free of work or work’s demand.

I am not free to choose my daily fate.

My greater purpose I have yet to sate,

So still I wonder if my future’s bland.

But why still wonder if my soul is true?

And why anticipate what’s yet to be?

My heart, if strong, will know how passions grew

and how, in turn, regrets must number few.

One step I want to take but cannot see

so sideways steps may be all I can do.

Speaking of beavers…

The current time of the year is one of the four most stressful for me at work.  They happen just about quarterly, with the publication of our quarterly books detailing everything we’ve done (or considered doing) for the past few months to our board of directors.  I compile, edit, and generally format the monster, as well as chivying the office to get content to me by my deadline to send the stuff to the printer.  Sympathetic people nearby pat me on the hand and feed me snacks when I come up for air.  Corina also sent me this link.  I don’t know how she came across it, or why it’s so addictive and wonderful, or what it has to do with beaver felt, but it gives me just the break I need every once and awhile in this madness.  For a seconds-long break, I can click and sing along: beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, beaver, mushroom, mushroom.

It’s almost as good as Bob Loblaw.  Or the original Po-Ta-Toe.