After chaos

I feel like a three-day-old helium balloon--you know, the kind that still has a little float to it but mostly just hovers over the floor?

I'm done for the semester. I'm done with one academic year of PhD coursework, of living in Chicago, and I. am. exhausted. I could sleep for a week.

There is still so much to do: a manuscript to finish and submit, a poetry syllabus to write and a course packet to develop, a litany of other projects of various importance, and, of course, the inevitable spring/end of the academic year cleaning. 1000 photocopies to separate into Keep, Toss, or Recycle piles. Reorganizing the bookshelves to find homes for the 30-some new books I buy every semester. Laundry and vacuuming and dusting and everything else that just doesn't seem important when you're trying to balance grading with reading with writing papers with being a poet with having friends and blowing off steam.

Yes, I know most of my readers are academics. I'm preaching to the choir. It's just...

It's just that this year was harder. This year, I didn't have any of the usual comforts to fall back on. I couldn't smoke my stress away. I couldn't drive to Mom and Dad's on the weekends for good food and moral support. There were no familiar faces in the hallways, no office doors that were always open with friendly professors waiting inside. This year, every little thing felt new, and hard, and scary. And did I mention I'm exhausted?

I'm trying to put it all together. And hopefully that will happen soon, because I'd like to start enjoying my summer. But right now, I'm feeling kind of hung-over, like I just got done with a 9 month long bender. So, what's the solution? Hair of the dog? Greasy food and good conversation? Take two advil and get back to work? I just can't seem to get moving.