(no subject)
It was hard to wake up since I was up too late last night, streaming the Daily Show (I've been hearing clips from it in a "Best of the Left" podcast, and was happy to find it on Hulu) and knitting (working on warm socks for me, doing the two socks on one set of needles, in order to use up another color as stripes when I don't know how many rows that would take).
So I was groggy and running late for proctoring an exam (which doesn't matter much -- students take it during any two hours block all day, and the stats are used to assess the program and tell them their weak areas). Wolf was also a bit late, so I was going to give her a ride. She was helping me grab all my stuff and put it in the car, then we had an actually pleasant chat as I dropped her off. As I got on the highway, I looked back and couldn't see my bag in the back seat. Groped desperately, and remembered that it hadn't been by the door, but had been on the couch, and so probably had been left behind. The prospect of proctoring for six hours without it was horrid, so I took the next exit and looped back, bemoaning the fact that having help gathering my stuff was actually less reliable than doing it myself.
Back at the house -- the couch is empty. No bag anywhere. I run back to the car, and there's the bag -- behind MY seat, where I couldn't possibly see it, and where I never throw it. But it made sense for Wolf, since she was opening my door to put my coffee in the car.
So I was seriously late, due to my assumption that Wolf wasn't helping well enough when she'd actually been more than reliable.
It's been a rough fall -- the jobs have been hectic and often argumentative, and the children have been intensely adolescent and unreliable. Somehow this morning seems like a distillation of the fall. Or, viewed another way, a suggestion to put my negativity behind me and expect things to go smoother now.
So I was groggy and running late for proctoring an exam (which doesn't matter much -- students take it during any two hours block all day, and the stats are used to assess the program and tell them their weak areas). Wolf was also a bit late, so I was going to give her a ride. She was helping me grab all my stuff and put it in the car, then we had an actually pleasant chat as I dropped her off. As I got on the highway, I looked back and couldn't see my bag in the back seat. Groped desperately, and remembered that it hadn't been by the door, but had been on the couch, and so probably had been left behind. The prospect of proctoring for six hours without it was horrid, so I took the next exit and looped back, bemoaning the fact that having help gathering my stuff was actually less reliable than doing it myself.
Back at the house -- the couch is empty. No bag anywhere. I run back to the car, and there's the bag -- behind MY seat, where I couldn't possibly see it, and where I never throw it. But it made sense for Wolf, since she was opening my door to put my coffee in the car.
So I was seriously late, due to my assumption that Wolf wasn't helping well enough when she'd actually been more than reliable.
It's been a rough fall -- the jobs have been hectic and often argumentative, and the children have been intensely adolescent and unreliable. Somehow this morning seems like a distillation of the fall. Or, viewed another way, a suggestion to put my negativity behind me and expect things to go smoother now.