I’m recovering from a nasty cold. M and the two older boys are upstairs, reading Harry Potter, and they’ll be asleep soon, I hope. N fell asleep a while ago. I know I’m recovering because by early evening I bounced off the walls to the point where I stairmastered twenty minutes while watching Sunday night football. If I hadn’t exercised I doubt I would sleep tonight. As it stands I only dismounted the machine after twenty minutes so I could say goodnight to the boys. I could have lasted double that stretch of time.

Let me back up to yesterday. The morning passed easily, although I was sick, reading and listening to T and a friend play music upstairs. Snow fell pretty much since dawn. Graduation, which I dreaded, was scheduled for 3PM. I drove through the snow down to my office in time for a cup of anti-cold tea. While I sat in the dark, listening to Stars of the Lid, a colleague came in and asked a question. I turned to check my computer for an answer and knocked the hot tea directly on my leg. Next I screamed “fuck!” about ten times in a row, sending my colleague into panic before she ran out of the room looking for towels. By the time she returned with towels and a sprig of aloe (I’m not making this up, mind you) my leg was pretty badly burned. The tea was right out of the teapot. I checked my leg in the bathroom mirror. The skin was red and somewhat blistered. Fuck it. Between the flu remnants and burnt skin I decided to blow off graduation. My colleague agreed to carry the U banner and I drove home (almost crashing in the process, by the way, on the off-ramp nearest my house). I was nauseous and vaguely hallucinatory. When I reached home I parked on the couch and hardly moved the rest of the evening. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have discovered either the best or the worst excuse for missing graduation in recorded history. You decide. However, if you want to make an informed decision, feel free to pour boiling tea on your skin beforehand.

Today the sun returned, at least, and I shook some of the December depression. This morning N and I dropped M and the boys off at church then hit Alterra’s for a smoothie. I don’t like Alterra’s, it’s a little too Boulder for me, all overplanned exposed wood and underfed customers, but the space was closer than my usual haunt. N and I had fun, double-strawing the smoothie, chatting while the sun poured through the windows. After we picked up everyone and drove home S and I watched the Pack game. Later M and T played out in the snow while S and I tracked football. I took a bath the made the bed in our room and read (“Our Band Could Be Your Life”, which a friend returned Saturday morning) under the covers.

Tomorrow I might skip work. I’m so tired. I guess I haven’t taken a real day off since August. You never stop working in this gig. Hell, I know I’m going to check my email as soon as finish the journal. The work never stops. I also believe (and have said before) the cumulative exhaustion o the last fifteen years is catching up to me. Two masters, one doctorate, three kids, full time work, fourteen and a half years. I feel like a marathon running asked to run marathon after marathon after marathon. Sooner or later you shut down. I suppose I should live and work with a little less intensity. I don’t relax much. Tomorrow, though, I may visit Holy Hill Basilica on my own, just to sit and listen, then take in “No Country for Old Men.” We’ll see.

Ok, a few quick bullets:

I picked up the new Magnetic Fields, “Distortion”, today. Wow, this disc sounds like their most complete yet. MF have a habit of releasing discs with three or four great songs combined with eight fuck-around songs. “Distortion” sounds better than anything I’ve heard.

“Crank” is one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen.

I stand a good chance of tying (three way) for the football pool win this week.

I’m over halfway through Jane Eyre, reading in spurts, and I’m enjoying the book a lot. However, I might put down the book for a bit and return to the Murakami or something.

We’ve been very good with money this fall, but I’m sick of feeling broke. I’m past feeling like I need to buy shit for the sake of buying shit, but every now and then I want to buy shit I want. Oh well. We chose this life, and I don’t regret it.