I’m in the corner, about 4:30PM, in my pajamas, practically ready for bed. T is watching an old Smurfs episode on television. N and S are playing Star Wars Wii upstairs. M is making dinner. Why does the hour feel later?

Today was my first “real” day back at work for the spring semester. Of course, last night I feel asleep by seven with a fever, woke at ten, read, slept fitfully from 1-6, rose, and got ready for work. Still, I wasn’t that out of it today, so I guess I managed enough sleep. The morning meetings played painless. I positioned myself near the back of the room and cruised the net on my laptop. Later I hid in my office, answered email, and generally f—ked around. A couple tech guys inserviced the school on wiki development, but I knew the wiki material already, so I cut out early. Terry and I food-fought in the hall with crème filled donuts and potatoes. Good times. I bought T a new Archie comic book at Borders on the way home. The house stood empty, when I reached Port, so I rode the elliptical (fifth day in a row) for an Office episode (“Sexual Harrassment”). The boys ran in the house at 3:30 and have kept themselves busy every since.

Whoo. Feeling tired all of a sudden. I think I’m going to turn down the differentiation class that guy from the archdiocese wants me to teach. The scenario gives me bad vibes, if I may sound like a hippy for a moment, and they seem to want me to teach on Friday evenings. Fuck that…I cut my rate for them, and I can walk away if I want to walk away. I’ve been reading my Seneca. Good night.