Empty (48 of 90)

It’s 10 pm on St. Patrick’s Day. It’s also the first night of the South by Southwest Music Conference and Festival.

I am home, sitting in my makeshift bed where I have been since 3 pm today after I dropped off the last of my friends at the airport.

I’m physically, emotionally and in every other way possible, drained.

I’ve been running for 2 solid weeks: Arizona, California, Indiana, Memphis, Arkansas and now Austin. I have boxes of research. Stacks of papers. Folders of digital files. Deadlines swirling around me. Conferences coming up.

It’s ridiculous, honestly.

There is nothing left in my tank, which is really too bad since I need to get up tomorrow to record a lecture, run, grade, write a feature, finish vetting grant proposals and prepare for my panel on Friday. Plus, somehow get to the bank to straighten out a SNAFU they made with my money.

I don’t need a girlfriend. I need a personal assistant. Okay, I need Pepper Potts but let’s not think too much about that one.

The one thing I’ve learned at Ball State is the amazing things I can do with a bit of help. (Thanks to my G.A. Rhett, I’m able to be in two places at one time.). It’s an invaluable lesson for me because I’m generally not very good at accepting help, which also means I’m generally very bad at doing multiple things at one time.

Or maybe right now I’m just empty.