Long Day.....

I'm too pooped to blog (properly) tonight. I took my mother-in-law to the hospital today for what I thought would be routine pre-op stuff.

Actually, it WAS fairly routine. I just didn't know it was going to take over 4 hours. So I didn't take food. Or enough money to get the car out of the parking deck. Or any money at all, for that matter. We got finished at the hospital just in time to join 4,113,510 other cars in the daily party that is known as Atlanta Rush Hour. Hurricane Isaac was the featured act.

And I pinched my hand putting her wheelchair back in the car, resulting in a cool-looking blood blister. I don't know whether to pop it or wear it proudly as a symbol of my sacrifice. Or just keep picking at it. Or take a picture of it and post it on my blog. Just kidding.

And I got my hopes all up when I was texting my misery (minus the blood blister, only because it hadn't happened yet) to Hubby, and he responded with a couple of texts referencing both going out to dinner and margaritas. My eyes were dancing, a little bit at the prospect of a fishbowl-sized margarita, but mostly at the fact that the waiter brings a basket of warm tortilla chips to the table even before we are seated.

But for some strange reason, when I FINALLY got home and Hubby offered to go get something to eat, the words that came out of my mouth were, "Just go get me a salad somewhere."

Mother-in-law's surgery is this Friday, and I hope after that this whole saga will be over. I'll post later about what it entails (minus any gory details), but tonight I'm too pooped.

It's a good thing I retired. Otherwise I would have had to quit.

What's Worse.....

I feel obligated to write a blog entry every night, if for no other reason than the fact that three of my dearest family members read it regularly (thank you sister and sister and daughter).

Some nights, though, like tonight, I just want to go to bed, never mind that it's only 7:30. My body thinks it's 8:30, and by the time it gets adjusted to the "new" time, it will be time to change the clocks again.

I felt fine this morning, so apparently just whining about feeling bad is enough to render me cured. That and DJan's wise suggestion of physical activity. I figured if I felt well enough to go to school, I could darn well ride my bike home. The activity itself made me feel better and even lifted my spirits somewhat after a bummer of a day at school, but now I am wiped out.

So I don't know what's worse...

...skipping a night of writing in my blog.

...or writing a poor excuse for a blog entry just to say I did.

You decide, but be gentle with my feelings. They're sensitive right now.

Maybe Later.......

I said I would write about my favorite casino games tonight, but I'm honestly just too tired. We didn't win a bunch of money (yet), but we're not broke (yet) either, we are just so damn tired. I don't know what it is. We didn't stay up late last night, we slept until our regular time this morning, and we are both just exhausted. I'm not this tired after a 50-mile bike ride! Hubby is already snoring, and I'm going to attempt to read some of my book, but it doesn't look too promising. My eyelids are already drooping. This traveling business is hard work.

Sorry for the lame post.

The Week That Would Not End.....

Is it just me, or has this been one of the longest weeks in the history of man? It feels like an eternity ago that Katydid and I rode the tandem, and it was only 5 days ago. Seriously?

For once I don't have anything planned for tomorrow. Good thing, since I feel like crap. I must be coming down with what Hubby has had for the past couple of weeks.

And he's so sympathetic. "Stay away from me," he said.

Thanks, Romeo, where do you think I GOT IT?

Last time I wrote a blog entry about possibly being sick, I made a miraculous recovery the next day. I'm hoping it works this time too.

I'm Not Supposed to Be This Tired.....

I don't have exams to give. I don't even have to enter grades into a computer. I don't have classes of 30 who are as eager to be on Christmas vacation as I am. Because our students don't have to come anymore after they are finished with their courses, we probably don't have 30 left in the whole school at this point. [On the other hand, guess which ones ARE left?] I don't have to lecture, I don't have hall duty, I don't have to write lesson plans. I don't have to have grades turned in by a deadline, and I don't have to worry about end-of-the-semester report cards. I don't have to average grades, because our online curriculum does it for us. I don't have to organize class parties or attend plays or concerts. I don't have to be in charge of a club doing a service project or a fundraiser. I don't have to decorate my room (or undecorate, as one principal always made us do before we left for Christmas break and I was terrified of her, so I complied). I don't have to work on courses for next semester. I don't have to schedule students for next semester. I don't even have to worry about what to wear for the next two days, because we have half-days and we made the executive decision to make both of those days Casual Fridays.

So how in the world can I be this tired?