Monday, October 27, 2014


I've spent the weekend in a chair, variously contorted and invariably uncomfortable.  In chairs actually (more than one): a chair in the kitchen, in the living room, on the couch, and propped by the contumacious pillows of my bed.  I also spent 7 straight hours on a chair in a coffeeshop with only one bathroom break -- which is really more about being dehydrated than the torturous trial of my weekend, which was torturous.  I am feeling bound in breath and limb.  I don't even dare to think about the things I'd rather be doing.  I did do a little bit of running, but not enough.

My kid can make herself a PB&J sandwich now, so my work there is done. Of the eyebrow-raising proportions, the dogs clean up the difference and that allows me to stay in the chair.  It has become the devil I know.  I'd rather be a mom.  I fucking hate sitting here...

...mostly because I'm not convinced of the validity or effectiveness of what I am doing or how I am doing it.

I'm researching.  My research is focused on the great European witch-hunts in the early modern period of European history.  This is the most awfully awkward sentence i have ever permitted to be seen by other people. I can't get beyond the fact that I've use the word 'European' twice in one sentence.  OMFG.  The subject is fascinating -- macabre, disgusting and infuriating, although I'm way too old and sagacious to let it affect me.  Or have an effect on me.  Fuck off.

I think a confident person would have finished this project by now.  I'm too multi-causal in my approach, and it is the ruin of me.  Stake me, burn me. Just let me out of this chair.


Roy said...

I've always been fascinated by these weird periods in history, where people reached adulthood without having to shake off what we would call the superstitions of childhood, or acquire any kind of precision of thought, and still function somehow. It's like staring into the mirror until your own features morph into horrifying, unrecognizable shapes.
I also want to thank you for contumacious. Because I have a cat like that, and somehow the term dogged seems reserved for other species.

Kristiana said...

Yes, it is a lot like that. I know that, having acquired a degree of precision in my thinking, I can't accurately judge by today's standards but I do. Oh lord, I do.

The Malleus Maleficarum is a carefully crafted argument written by educated men. So that makes it even harder for me to be objective-ish. And! the whole concept of witchcraft as a vast diabolical conspiracy was actually primarily a fearful preoccupation of the literate elite. The peasants were more concerned with simple witchcraft like why they got boils and how knotted string caused impotence. So yeah, I get judgy and fail to maintain my integrity as an academic.

You're welcome for contumacious. Use it often, so you remember it. It is an archaic word and well deserving of a comeback.

asha said...

Thea can now make her own P&J? Holy god! How did that happen?

P.S. Don't get me started on the evil fucking bastard "witch" hunters! But you're right. The subject is fascinating, macabre, disgusting and infuriating.


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