Jennifer Jordan

I basically have a week left of research leave this summer before I go on vacation (and I’ll probably write some more then too). The past couple of months have been a bit of a blur because I’m trying to get so much writing done, though writing scholarly work has gotten easier for me.

First off, I don’t have the nagging anxiety gnawing in the back of my mind while I sit, write, mentally spin, and wonder if I can write this article. So that’s a relief.

Along with having more confidence in my writing ability, I am also getting better at writing scholarly prose. Maybe because I’ve had my work peer reviewed and torn apart by strangers. My job requires me to think and write (and flounder) and revise. Besides being used to the slow toiling progress of scholarly writing, I’m so much easier on myself.

For example, if I don’t write much while spending a day working on an article, I don’t worry about whether I will finish. I don’t feel lazy for not doing enough. It’s easy for me to slip into the curse of not feeling productive. My scholarly gig was hard for this working class girl to get used to, at least mentally. I have to remind myself, I’m thinking.

Thinking is work, too. (I swear.) Even if there is no immediate output.

The curse of not feeling productive is easy to fall under when you spend the majority of your day in yoga pants you slept in. But I am adjusting to that perk of working from home. I embraced it by taking a break today to go to a used bookstore in downtown Albuquerque.

I can’t believe I’ve never been to this bookstore before. I did worry about what would happen if there was an earthquake. Surely, I would be toast. Once I stopped thinking about being buried alive by books, I walked through the aisles and thought about how going to a bookstore is work for me because reading is work for me, and I felt super bougie but also grateful for my hard fought existence on this planet. I’m grateful I get to read books and write for my job.

I am thinking about this because lately it feels like my line of work (academic librarian) is becoming more precarious, what with the Department of Education being dismantled. Maybe I should go back to thinking about being buried alive by books. Or maybe I can just keep writing, just keep writing, just keep writing. Because I can. I have space in this moment, the newest bullet in my gratitude journal.