Whoo, today was a bitch. A big, messy, evil bitch. But I’m ok. Is this what corporate people feel at the end of every day? How do they not kill themselves?

Anyway, today started out ok. I woke near four (after some very disturbing dreams, so I take that back, today didn’t start out ok) and hit the gym right when the doors opened at five. I managed six miles in 52:10, a new personal best, then moved downstairs for an hour of basketball. Ok, I struggled through an hour of basketball, but I survived. After a quick shower and breakfast I hustled to work and managed to get my shit together for the afternoon before my 9AM meeting. This is where the fun starts. I sat in a small, stuffy conference room for three fucking hours, except for a short break, and worked through administrative, uh, bullshit. Well, it’s not all bullshit, but you know what I mean. At one point things got heated. Two people cried. Get me the fuck out of those meetings, please. I scarfed lunch and hit my 1PM class. I suppose class went a little better, but we’re building that bridge as we walk on it, so to speak, with some new assignments and policies. By four I fucking exhausted and, of course, a student wanted to talk through some other issues. And then a graduate wanted to talk. Plus I had hardly eaten since yesterday at four, so a hunger headache set in. When I arrived home I inhaled a couple of sweet-potato/tofu tacos and ate chocolate ice cream. Now I feel better. I could eat some more, though. I can’t tell if this would be stress eating or good practice. I’m leaning toward the latter.

So there’s Monday. Yay. The whole building at work is stressed. At least my kids are doing well. N won a baseball hat on some field trip and wore it sideways all afternoon. He looks hilarious. T and S are upstairs wrestling, I think, and Louisville/Georgetown starts in twenty minutes. I’m in the mood for some basketball and a beer. Nothing wrong with that, eh? Maybe Murakami later. Good night.