One of the funniest things about the conference I’m currently attending–which, I should add, is jam-packed with academic goodness–is that there are a pretty limited number of flights to the conference city, and so the last couple of days have featured planes full of academics. And one thing I noticed is that I seem to bring more than many others. Reviewing the contents of my bags, I see:
- 60 exams to grade
- A short-story collection & collection of novellas by the author I’ve just interviewed, so that I can write up the feature-length story
- The text I’m prepping for next week’s Honors class
- The next two novels that I’m reviewing for PopMatters
- Studies on Hysteria, which is the subject of my next PsychoSlut column
Perhaps I overpacked? Even factoring in the 13 hours of travel time each way?
Meanwhile, what did I do last night? Fell asleep at 5pm, woke up at 1am, and then went back to sleep until 4.30am, which my body interpreted as 7.30am.
And here’s the thing: The only thing I *ever* get done at conferences is sleep. (Aside from conference-related stuff . . . paper-finishing, and the lot.) As long as we have a small child at home, all I’ll ever get done at conferences is sleep.
So, self, in the future: STOP PACKING ALL THIS STUFF YOU CAN’T DO!! You’ll just feel guilty, and, besides, you need to sleep.
Bah. If you want to see *one* thing I got done today, click here for the weekly Blog of a Bookslut post. Ooh–and I got my beta invite for Sandy, the virtual e-mail assistant from the values of n people. And, I guess, I wrote this whiny blog post.