What is it about the end of the semester that makes everyone want to cram in their various events and deadlines, with complete disregard to the usual and customary end of semester stress?
Mes chers, let me walk you through the past few days. I have not had a fully functioning shower due to a leak downstairs. I have had two of my orchids heavily damaged (incidental to the work), and exact replacement appears impossible. I have sent Pete out to visit his country cousins to avoid too much stress from the bathroom work, but as they're still determining what to do about the GIANT CRACKS in the exterior wall behind the tile work has stalled. Meanwhile, I am Pete-less for the first time since adopting him. Zizi has been enjoying being an only cat-- maybe. She's behaving precisely the same as she usually does. But I miss my giant pudgy furry stress ball. In the meantime, I had a small party luncheon with the dean of another school of public health who's a mover and shaker in the field. I had another lunch with a member of the department's advisory committee. I had a job fair-- which I skipped, as neither the agency I want to work for nor its parent department were in attendance. I had to individually email each and every member of our state's bloated legislature (and not all of them publicize their email addresses, so there was a lot of educated guessing and re-sends). Still haven't gotten any comments on the summary I gave my boss on Monday, which I assumed I'd have to revise. Still working on a massive comparison of a massive program across each state in the union. Hoping I didn't make too much of an ass out of myself in my class presentation yesterday. Looking at the pile of work that needs to be done NOW and feeling my stomach shrivel into a dense, acidic walnut. Oh, and I still need to ask a very intimidating individual to be my reader for my essay. As I want to convince her, this means developing more of a précis on a topic that I just had to change, as my formerly forerunner of a topic program may be going bye-bye if either the House or Senate health care reform bill pass.
And the freaking Panthers screwed the pooch last night. I was so very good at picks the past few years when offering advice to others. The year it matters? I can't pick for shit.
One positive note: After 30 years, I'm finally starting to master frog kick even though I think it's the stupidest, least efficient way to move through water in the history of ever.