Todd and I have been going through a rough couple of days. We’re dealing with the issues concerning his credit completion rate (thanks to sleep deprivation intersecting with his precalculus class). We’re down to one final weekend of him working the overnight shift, then we can breathe a sigh of relief and get him rested (and, it should be noted, back on his feet mentally/physically).
I’m trying to work on my final project, plus get ready for my final that I’m hoping to take this weekend. Work is still driving me insane, but I’m so busy with other things that it’s become more like an irritating buzz (think mosquito) versus the dreaded roar of a train.
I fully expect to get an A in the graduate class I’m currently taking, although a B would be just fine by me… I’m too tired to feel my normal perfectionistic tendencies. I finished typing that and there it was, the giant yawn that reinforces exactly what I’m trying to say.
I feel like poop. I’m an expert in this area, as I deal with poop on a daily basis… thanks to my little guy… He’s cute, but… well. You know what I mean.
Anyway, I feel like poop. I’m tired. My throat is scratchy and I sense that I’m on the verge of coming down with a nasty bug. Nice. Like I’ve got time for that.
Ok. I’d love to write more, but truthfully, Bren’s here now and I don’t feel like writing anything else. I came. I got things off my chest. I’m done. Simple, eh?
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. And cross fingers for Todd. He’s at a job interview this afternoon. It pays more than his old job and it’s fewer hours (none of which will be in the middle of the night when he should be sleeping).
That’s it for me. I’m done.