Tuesday night, nearing eight, one of those late school year nights when the kids are out in the neighborhood probably later than they should but the weather is so beautiful calling them inside for the night seems unfair. S and I are watching the Brewers (done 1-0 to the Astros). N survived his first t-ball practice and, had he time to play afterward, he probably would have been in a pretty good mood. I had it in my mind that I would wait until I wrote all about the SD trip before I posted on the blog but I probably won’t finish the long post until Friday. I want to write now.

The last few days have been decent. The SD trip calmed my soul. Where to start since then? Let’s go with Sunday. M and the boys went to church for a teacher appreciation gathering. I cleaned and started laundry. The day was still cool, way too cool for mid-May, so I left the windows closed and worked out on the elliptical while watching the Brew game. Man, I needed the sweat after Friday in the car (even though I ran Friday morning) and car-shopping Saturday. What else did I do? Read, play chess with the boys (I took all three to Target on a legos/chess set search), baseball on the front sidewalk, and catching up on television. Just what I needed.

After an hour of cardio Monday morning and some controversy over my decision to skip hoops, I drove into work and started setting up the new office. Although we’re in the basement I have small ground-level windows. I can’t stand overhead lights. Three low-illumination lamps, hanging under the cabinets, are enough for now. Most of the morning passed emptying boxes and organizing files. Terry and I did lunch in the cafeteria (remind me to skip the cafeteria in the summer, please) and I finished off most of the office before late afternoon visitors kept me busy until I left near four. After dinner I sat behind the fence for S’s first game. He did well. I listened to NPR and read The Jewish Messiah while avoiding other parents. Never am I more aware of my social ineptitude, combined with distaste for “parents of sports participants” culture, than on the side of a park district baseball game. Please leave me alone, people. I know you don’t want to talk with me. I don’t want to be rude, but ninety percent of the time the feeling is mutual. I’m not here to grandstand my testosterone, talk about hunting, or act like I give a shit about the score. Let me listen to NPR and lower my eyes to the page.

This morning I attended a long full-University meeting in which I had to thank, on the mic, an administrator for her efforts before she returned to faculty ranks. Once I finished my spiel I relaxed. Once the meeting ended I realized I had a couple hours to kill so I drove home and worked out to Sportscenter before returning for faculty senate. My friend Lance nominated me for faculty council president so I nominated him back. Heh. I’m not ready for that responsibility. I hope I didn’t sound like a jerk. Anyway, I cut out of the meeting at 3:15, stopped at Blockbuster, then hauled ass home to make sure T reached baseball practice on time. M took N to his first t-ball practice while I lifted weights and T and S spazzed out in the neighborhood.

And here I am, suddenly tired. I’m happy tonight. Calm. Hope you are too. Good night.