the skinny malinky

Sometimes when I can’t sleep, or am barely sleeping, I get a word or phrase running through my head over and over. The insomnia episode of a few nights ago featured just a few lyrics from an Alicia Keys song (“no one, no one, no one”) as I flipped uncomfortably around in bed. This morning, in that hazy thing between sleep and waking, it was “Theda Skocpol Theda Skocpol Theda Skocpol.” I have had a few good days of getting good work done and am feeling satisfied: I came up with a working title for the dissertation; I got most of my profesh website up and running; I figured out a game plan for getting the article for the Foucault book written over the next few weeks. (In fact, I was so busy working on Wednesday, that I didn’t find out Barack Obama had secured the democratic nom until I left my apartment at 4 pm and saw the neighbor’s newspaper lying outside her door. And I’d been on the computer all day. As Bridge said, “Maybe you were actually concentrating on your work.”) Last night, a great time at send-off drinks for Dean, except for the part with the gross guy who wouldn’t leave me alone (Him [leaning whole body into mine and drunkenly slurring]: “Can you help me??” Me [pushing with two hands]: “Are you gonna puke on me?!?”). Had a wonderful chat with Emily about job searches, writing, and blogs. It was nice to get some “live comments” from her. The conversation, and the work I’ve been doing the past few weeks—getting the diss in order, thinking about places I might like to live—made me realize all at once the obvious thing that I hadn’t fully thought out yet: This will be the last year I am a student.