That is better. I'm tired. Exhausted. Etc. I'm home with the chitlins, thinking of emptying the dishwasher, but overall feel more balanced. Morning rush, maddening computer issues, program ad issues with Writers Chronicle, advising issues, talk in the hallway, showing off the new bathroom, more computer issues, office complaints, rushed lunch with Erik, meeting with smart grad student, email email email (now that computer issues are resolved), read Julie's fabulous poem, log microorganism footage, try to assemble a reasonable time-code list for Erik to make trailer, call Max's day care, find out Max is still asleep, rush to get Zoe, think about Julie's poem, run through the rain to pick Zoe up, drive slowly to get Max, wash out spilled coffee in car and come back here to contemplate emptying the dishwasher.
More exhausted than I've been all summer. Also. Less apoplectic. Strange.
Our offices just reopened after their remodel. I saw mine for the first time and almost cried. I had thought I was getting this cool new office--large, open, and close to the exits--but in the remodel, they bricked in one of the windows to make an up-to-fire-code fire-escape. Lame! Give my windows! The people can use the regular stairs if the building's on fire!!! Or, rather, put in the fire-escape but make it like one of those cool New Yorkie kind that clangs up and down, and, if you're a really great and fast and tall criminal, you can jump and escape upward by pulling down on the iron ladder. I wouldn't mind watching that out my window.
So now I have only one window. But one is better than none, my smart grad student who has no windows in his office told me.
So I will learn to live with it, put gigantic pictures of Max and Zoe on the wall so I can start to crave the return to summer, full-time domestication and all.
(The "C" on my keyboard is kind of wonky. If there are missing "c's" where there should be "c's" forgive me because while I do feel "back," or, rather, "bak," I don't feel very proofready.)