Not dead--here's some Fred
Things have been crazy. Luckily, I had the day off for Veterans' Day yesterday, so am infinitesimally less frazzled than last week--or I was, until I had to spend four hours cleaning up some data for a Friday deadline. I have made a few angsty posts in the last few weeks, but posted them as private, for which you should thank me. No, really. The whine quotient was off the charts. I actually love my job, but I am still learning to cope with all the eight million directions at once.
Meanwhile, I now have very very short hair. I'm still getting used to it. And I have a social engagement tomorrow night. The two are unrelated, yet I've decided to place them in the same paragraph anyway, as part of this whole stream-of-consciousness thing I have going on at the moment. I don't have the energy to organize thoughts, except in short bursts that leave me exhausted.
There is no real point to this post, except to say that I'm not dead, I probably owe you email or more, and I'm hoping to catch up on life this weekend--just in time for a crazy week at my institution followed by a conference trip, so any peace I achieve will be short-lived. I'll take it anyway.
Last night Fred was missing just a beer can (she has a built-in wifebeater), as she lounged on the sofa in front of the TV:
I figure that any post that ends with Fred has some justification for its existence.
Meanwhile, I now have very very short hair. I'm still getting used to it. And I have a social engagement tomorrow night. The two are unrelated, yet I've decided to place them in the same paragraph anyway, as part of this whole stream-of-consciousness thing I have going on at the moment. I don't have the energy to organize thoughts, except in short bursts that leave me exhausted.
There is no real point to this post, except to say that I'm not dead, I probably owe you email or more, and I'm hoping to catch up on life this weekend--just in time for a crazy week at my institution followed by a conference trip, so any peace I achieve will be short-lived. I'll take it anyway.
Last night Fred was missing just a beer can (she has a built-in wifebeater), as she lounged on the sofa in front of the TV:
I figure that any post that ends with Fred has some justification for its existence.