I just left a comment over at Dr. H's and even as I was writing it, I was thinking, "goddamn, you are a hypocrite." Why is it that I can so easily tell someone else, fuck making the thing perfect, send it off to the journal and let them throw it back at you with specific suggestions, rather than wasting your time trying to guess what they'll want from it," but when it comes to my own stuff, I don't do that? Instead, I fret. I hate that. And it's only in the publishing world where I do that: I'm quite happy to teach off the top of my head (and do it frequently, and well, so there). Quite happy to leave the house with only vague directions to where I'm going and figure it out by guessing. Quite happy to improvise in the kitchen: "hm, we have stilton, tortillas, and a pomegranate... ok, holiday quesadillas it is!" Quite happy to babble on my blog, even, so it's not writing per se.

Gah. So annoying. Note to self: "The perfect is the enemy of the goddamnwell good enough." Memorize it.

Now to grade the grad papers (ugh), since pseudonymous kid has fallen asleep on the couch. Ah, naptime...