Work.

I mean, I have read my archives OF COURSE because I am Narcissus.  And for the last 9 years, all I have done is bitch and moan about working almost full time at the office (4 days) for a week the week before classes start at my school and my lovely grad students come back to town.  But holy hell am I glad this is not my reality.  All the loans, all the years of genteel grad school poverty, all the dissertation sweat.  It was all worth the wonderful flexibility we usually enjoy.  But seriously, I worked 9 hours at work and am still working from home tonight.  And I need to be back tomorrow morning.  And it's HARD.  I stayed up until almost midnight getting all my shit ready (but I looked like (chubby) working Barbie in my a-line black skirt, chambray Oxford, pearls, leopard stilettos, and bright red lipstick, damnit) and making crockpot chicken tortilla soup with fresh garden and CSA veggies.  Then I was up at 5 to exercise for 85 minutes before getting ready for work.  AND I BLEW MY HAIR DRY.  Tomorrow I do all of that again but I have a PTO breakfast at the kids' school that I am hosting on my way to work, and dinner hour is easier because Ben is home, so there are no babysitter instructions to write either.  When you only need a week of childcare every year, it's kind of a cobbled together week, KWIM?

In any case, I missed my windblown toddler and her merry band of pranksters.