I've decided to take Thursday nights off from the Resistance Manual work, partly because Friday is my early day and I am wiped by the end of the week, and partly because I just think it's good practice to take breaks from things to keep from burning out.
So I spent the evening submitting poetry instead. Partly because of the following conversation I had in email yesterday, but I mean, I've been submitting stuff a lot anyway. Still.
P = Professor at the college where I work who was also my English professor twenty-odd years ago
M = Me!
P: P.S., are you related to the Sandra Vannoy I taught twenty-some years ago, who was a really good poet?
M: I'm Sandra! And thanks so much. I loved your class, but I was too timid to bring it up before now.
P: Oh, wow! I still remember your poem about puddle-jumping. [goes on to be chatty for the rest of the exchange.]
My writing professor knew the name of one of my poems. Twenty years later. I was blown away. (I don't actually care that much for that poem now, of course, but still.)This entry was originally posted on Dreamwidth (DW). I welcome comments here or at the original post, where there are currently comments. If you don't have a DW account, you can post using your LJ name as an OpenID account, or feel free to comment anonymously and I'll unscreen.