I didn't write yesterday because by the time I sat down to do it, I realized I had nothing whatsoever to say. Not that I do now, so much, but I'm playing around with this new Google word processing program, so I thought I'd just start writing.
Things are quiet here today in not-library land. The SCM is out -- he was out yesterday and will be out Monday as well -- because (and forgive me if I've already ranted on this) some people, you know, when they have vacation homes in beautiful places, well, they need more time to get there! You know, it's not fair that people like him have to spend their days at measly old work when they could be in Vermont! (I hope it snowed four feet there last night.) So he took three personal days so that he could have a nice five-day vacation up there. Aw, sweet.
(And yes, I will be out on Tuesday, the day he gets back, so I can go to the dentist and have the furnace serviced, but it's not the same. Is it? I'm also ditching Back to School Night and leaving him alone, which isn't the nicest thing a person can do, but I am. I'm over the guilt already.)
I'd like to say that it's cold here today, but those of you in the upper midwest and upstate New York will hit me with something (and be justified), but it is. It's colder than it's supposed to be, anyway, and of course there is no heat on yet. What was a stuffy cinderblock cell yesterday is now an icebox.
I'm going back to the surgeon after school to have him check on my incision. I think it's better, but since I don't know what better is supposed to look like, how do I know? I won't share my specific concern with you -- ick -- but I think it deserves a once-over by a licensed medical professional. I didn't go to yoga last night because I didn't want to stretch it, but I really would like to go tomorrow.
Have I told you about my upcoming weekend? It's all in-laws all the time. On Saturday, we have to go to a Bar Mitzvah in the Hubs' family. How is that, you ask? Aren't I the Jewish girl married to the nice Italian-Irish Catholic boy? Yes. Well, sort of. For an Italian-Irish family, they've got a whole lot of Jewish folk floating around in there. First, there's the Hubs, who married me. Are our children Jewish? Well, I think so, but we pretty much left it up to them, and didn't choose to raise them one way or another, but exposed them to all family customs. The Hubs' sister has a Jewish Hubs, and his family is very observant, so, although their children didn't go to Hebrew school or have Mitzvahs, they were raised to think of themselves as Jewish, and so they do. But here's the good one. The Hubs' aunt, his mother's sister, married a nice Jewish doctor 50 years ago or so, and although she never converted, she stopped following any aspect of Catholicism -- although she continued to have a Christmas tree for many years -- and their children were raised Jewish. (Are they Jewish, really? That's another whole question. The Jewish definition of a Jew is anyone who either a) was born of a Jewish mother, or b) converted to Judaism. So I don't know.) Anyway, the aunt's son -- Hubs' first cousin -- had a Bar Mitzvah and everything, although he is now married to a non-Jewish girl and I don't know what choice they've made for their baby. The aunt's daughter, also the Hubs' first cousin, was married in a hoo-hah Jewish wedding some time back, and now has a 13 year old son, and voila, a Bar Mitzvah. But our families are not close, so we never even see these people. The ceremony is in the morning -- in Trenton, of all horrid places -- and the reception is at night, near there. We are going to the reception, and then driving home late, way past our normal bedtime.
And then -- are you ready? -- the MIL has established this Sunday as the day we get together to celebrate all the autumn birthdays. WTF? So we are driving down to Trenton Saturday night -- that's about two hours each way, southwest -- and then down to Lakewood on Sunday -- that's an hour and half each way, southeast.
Oh. Joy. No weekend for me, then.
In the continuing saga of ....
So I'm still here at school, as I type; it's about 11:30 and I can barely keep my eyes open from the boredom. Did I tell you it looks like we may be moving into the new library within the next two or three weeks? I'm not sure what that means, exactly; not books and fully set up, but maybe chairs for us and .... oh, I don't know. I can't wait to get out of here. This room puts me to sleep.
The Other Chai told me over coffee today that she won't be at lunch, and I thought, YAY! I don't have to have lunch in that horrible little faculty room with nobody I really want to talk to! (God, do I miss the Chum at lunch.) So I'm going to zip out, maybe to Wendy's, and then pick up a nice latte before I have to be back. I've got roughly 12 to 1, door to door. (Which is to say, closing the door to the computer lab at 12 and unlocking it no later than 1.) Easy peasy. I could go home, but K's off today and may still be sleeping -- it's possible -- and I don't want to wake her up like I did the other day, and anyway, it's much harder to leave home and come back.
The clock is ticking, but not fast enough ...
And furthermore ...
"I should have went ..." Please, never! It hurts my head!
"Any senior who has not had their portrait taken ..." That one is on the home page of the school website. Let me tell you, that would not have been there when the website was my baby.
And ... I'm back. I'm really having a cranky day, aren't I? Going out to lunch is such a hassle. Would I have been better off staying here? I dont know. It's good to get out, but I felt like I was in such a rush, and then I got back ten minutes early. And I ate food that is bad for me, a Wendy's burger. I know, I know, I should have gone home.
And then ...
It's nearly six. The doctor said that I'm healing and that I can do yoga tomorrow. I finally got my nails done. Poor little K has the plague, or some similar virus, and is periodically hacking up a lung on the couch behind me. And ...
Wonderful Nephew called me before to tell me that he is engaged! YAY! Totally love him, and his lovely fiancee as well. And she probably thought she was going to grow old and die before he pulled the trigger and asked. Good news for someone today, anyway!
