Another short post. Getting out of bed was torture this morning. Everything I did, I had to force myself to do. Good thing I give myself plenty of time, because every task took forever.
The morning class was John’s “The Play’s the Thing.” I really, really enjoy this class. Today we analyzed two scenes, one from Casablanca and one from a piece one of the students is working on. John’s notes and insights are amazing. I hope I can learn to do that.
It’s hard, of course — if not impossible — to do it to your own work, because you’re too close to it. You know what they’re supposed to be thinking and feeling, so it makes sense to you. It takes another reader to really provide insight into your work. Receiving that insight is difficult, because what we’ve written is personal, and criticism feels like a personal attack, but that’s just the reality of writing professionally.
With that in mind, I’ve decided I’m going to participate in their mentorship program and ask John to be my mentor. I was torn between him and Warren — and ultimately, I may work with both of them for a period of time. We’ll see. John’s classes are the ones that resonate most strongly with me, probably because they appeal to the intellectual in me.
This afternoon was Tom’s “On Your Feet” and, this evening, Stewart’s “Personal Connection.” Alas, my cold got the best of me, and I called Jay to pick me up at lunch. (It felt a little like calling my mom to pick me up from junior high.) By the time Tom’s class rolled around, I couldn’t even conceive of sitting up for three more hours, much less being “on my feet” acting. I apologized to Tom, and I’ll send an apology e-mail to Stewart. I hate to miss, but man, I’m just dying now. Even the ride home was torture.
Tomorrow is the all-day writing event on “That Traumatic Event.” It’s a Very Important Day in class, and… I’m not sure I can do it. We’ll have to see how I feel when I wake up. I know I need to go — I know it’s super important. But I also know I’ve got to get well.