Caveat: seasonal drift…

I don't have much to share. I've been a bit out of sorts and disgruntled, lately, and it would be hard to pinpoint a single, specific reason.

Partly, I'm feeling a bit stale with work – I need to do something innovative, but in the current class schedule, I feel I have quite limited oportunities for that. Because of changes in the way the 7th grade (1st year middle school) exams are set up in the public schools, Karma has adapted by NOT offering a special exam prep schedule for 7th graders. The consequence of that is that I no longer see much of a "Naesin vacation" as I used to call it: that is, a seasonal slowdown of the teaching schedule, including Saturdays off, during the test-prep period. Now, instead, it's just the same-old same-old. So it leads to a feeling of burn-out with respect to work.

I have a certain hobby I don't post very often about: the geofiction thing. I've shared it a few times here – it's not top secret, it's just something I figure most people don't find particularly relatable. Mostly, it involves drawing fictional maps in a digital environment. However, as I mention in the lefthand column of this here blog thingy™, I also have taken on a certain level of administrative responsibility for the website, on a volunteer basis. Lately, that has been profoundly unrewarding, due to some unpleasant personalities on the website. The consequence is that I have scaled back my participation in the website, and I suppose that "loss" is also contributing to my current sense of disgruntlement.

Of course, I always get a bit melancholy around the equinoxes, too. That's an inexplicable and perhaps untypical manifestation of some kind of seasonal affective affliction. It's as if it's not the presence or absence of daylight that gets me gloomy, but rather periods when the amount of daylight is shifting rapidly, in either direction.

Anyway.

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: Quatrain #56

(Poem #252 on new numbering scheme)

The surreptitious movements made
by mice in windblown leaves
reveal the clockwork of the world
to passing birds, like thieves.

– a quatrain in ballad meter.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]

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