Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Bat Sh*t Crazy and Burnt Out

Husband and I watch one hour of netflix after dinner every night (imagine two adults with deep, dark under-eyes posed like corpses in armchairs, silent and exhausted).  We are half way through The King's Speech.  The scene in which the then Duke of York swears and swears and swears is enticing.  I want to do that.  So badly.

I'm in my office, crazy with despair right now.

I want a day off with happy children draped on me like compresses.

I want time to go to the swimming pool and pretend, as I swim laps, that I am actually flying.

I want to put my head in a hessian sack until I feel better.

Instead, I think I will cancel my office hours tomorrow, NOT come to work, and sit at a good cafe with the 1,000 pages of reading I am supposed to accomplish in one day, plus two sets of grading, and pretend that I am taking a mental health (and hygiene) day.  Perhaps if I pour an espresso in my ear I will feel happy and clean-brained?

(And if I pour one in Clara's ear, will she stop yelling  at me?)

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