[Un]happy weekend!

Thursday night: Work work work! Grade grade grade! Must finish all the grading!

Friday, 12:45 am: Whew! All the grades are in! Rejoice! Now for some much needed sleep. I wish my back didn't hurt so much right now.

Friday, 7:00 am: BLEEEEEEEEEH WHY DO I FEEL SO AWFUL. Did someone feed me thumbtacks while I was sleeping? Because my throat really hurts...Oh well, I guess I'd better go to my five-hour long meeting.

Friday, 3:00 pm: When did it get so dizzy and hot in here? I'm going to lay on the couch for a while. It's a good thing I took the rest of the afternoon off... And apparently I have a fever. Yay.

Saturday morning (eleven hours of feverish sleep later): Huh. More fever. Also, I need a water trough, stat. I wonder if I have Strep throat...Two of my students had Strep throat a week or two ago... [Web MD search tells me I probably have the plague or terminal cancer.] Hm, well I don't have white spots, so it's probably not Strep throat.

Sunday morning: Huh. White spots. Medicenter time!

Sunday, two and a half hours of waiting room time later: Yay! Strep throat! Boo, not allowed to go back to work until Wednesday. Which means I have to find a sub for Tuesday. Anyone want to go to Temecula???  :(


Dear students: in the future, feel free to give me your essays, but please keep your infectious diseases to yourself. Sincerely, Mrs. B


A

Morning thoughts:

Sneezing explosively with oatmeal in your mouth is the worst. Almost as bad: cleaning sneezed oatmeal off of your laptop.

Winseln.

I finished my first Latvian Wedding Sock this weekend. But I can't post pictures because now I need to grade a million papers before Thursday. Ugh. I really hate the end of the semester. Even if I've been relatively responsible with my grading all semester, I still have at least 10-12 solid hours of grading ahead of me that I couldn't have prevented and that I can't pass off to my grader. Darned term papers... And I still have to go to work like normal. So that's like 8 hours in the office to come home to several hours of grading. Whine whine whine.


Okay, I'm done. See you in a week.

A

P. S. Also, today I discovered that chestnuts are disappointingly icky. This week is not starting off well.

Poem

I.

A poem can be a broken little thing:
An injured insect buzzing with one wing.

...Knitting...

I have a feeling that I will finish the first sock and not attempt the second one for, oh, say at least a year or so...


A