I'll Have the #MakingExcuses With a Side Of #SabbaticalFail
I don't make typos. I do, however, periodically disrupt linguistic hegemonies by way of unintentionally subversive alternate spellings.— Shit Academics Say (@AcademicsSay) May 24, 2016
My new motto?
A week of traveling and I'm back at it today. My trips to Indianapolis and Fort Worth were productive in many ways. I met new people. I picked up new ideas. I had great conversations. Oh, and the running was fantastic. I made a point of getting out every morning so that I could: 1) observe the local scenery; and 2) burn the surplus of calories gathered after each day of eating and eating and more eating.
Wanna know what I didn't make a point of doing? Writing. Not a word.
Even worse, while I did use some empty spaces to finish a few academicy tasks, I did not so much as read one relevant book or article on religion and sports. Why? I mean, it would have been slightly better had I just squeezed in one damn article on a plane trip or during a session break. But I didn't.
So on the drive home from the airport yesterday, I began to reflect on this. I also thought about my next blog post. Maybe a recap of the trip? A post full of lies about how I heroically sacrificed sleep for a word count? Or something that justifies my conclusion that "travel" is a good excuse for slacking off. All of these are problematic for different reasons, but that last one is particularly deceptive. I mean, I made time to run every day. Why couldn't I do the same with writing?
Truth be told (because I normally lie), I have always made running a priority--from my days as a young Marine to my life now as a middle-aged dad/professor. Carving out time for running has never been a problem.
And yet, when it comes to writing... I can always find an excuse. I do think that there is a difference between just spending time writing, and spending quality time writing. Ideally, two hours is a good block of time, where I can move something along. But I don't live an ideal life. I live a life that frequently delivers slivers of time, here and there, always interrupted by this little thing or that.
I am tempted here to finish this post with a rah rah, "I'll do better," punchy sign off. But really, would I mean it? No. I am certain that I will do the same thing again.
So how about this instead...
I'll just admit that I am really good at making excuses for myself. And that if this skill could be monetized, I could probably buy a minor league baseball team and pay someone to write a book about it.