My blog has been whining and crying this week. Apparently it feels neglected. I’ve tried consoling it and apologizing for my negligence. I’ve expressed my commitment to my blog by explaining that my intentions have been to post more frequently and increase our quality time together. I don’t think my blog is buying it. It said something about, “the little boy who cried wolf,” or some nonsense like that. I enjoy writing immensely and I do need to make time for it. Do you hear that blog? I’m talking to you. Writing is my outlet, my creative indulgence and once again I’ll vow to try to get back on track.
The end of the semester is wrapping up, which means in four more days I am done teaching for the semester. Remember being a student and how stressful the end of the semester was? Everything was due at once (likely because you had not spent anytime working on the projects the first 15 weeks of the semester) and exams were imminent. I’d like to inform you that the end of the semester really isn’t any easier when you are the professor. Someone has to grade all that shit. So, take the work you completed as a student and multiply it by 37, then give it to the professor in one day. For good measure, send an email or two-dozen in the following days to inquire about when you can expect your grade so you know how hard you have to study/not study for the final exam. I think the only feasible answer is outsourcing. Next semester I am going to advertise in India for a grading assistant. Brilliant.
On top of that, Craig has decided it is an opportune time to be sick. A sick husband is comparable to a sick child times 500. I spent the initial part of the week calling him SWINE FLU, which I found humorous, despite the fact that he did not. Humor may be my coping mechanism. The Swine Flu joke suddenly became not quite so funny on Wednesday night when he ended up in the ER, incidentally being tested for Swine Flu. Seriously, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. Thankfully, no Swine Flu here, just a horrendous case of the Non-Swine-Flu, which is still wreaking havoc on him four days later. Craig has been banished to the bedroom, which he does not wholeheartedly appreciate. I have resisted the urge to tell him that he is fortunate that I am even letting him stay in the house. I would willingly pay hundreds of dollars to ship him to a hotel just to ensure that Kate and I don’t contract whatever it is that he’s harboring. I’ve barely recovered from her last bout of sickness and a sudden repeat performance would either land me in the crazy house, or send me screaming into the night. What did I do to deserve this chaos? I swear, I haven’t been kicking any puppies.
I almost feel compelled to mention that I must have an immune system made of steel. I also almost feel compelled to point out just how fortunate I am to remain healthy while everyone else in my household seems to be in competition for winning the PERSON WHO HAS THE WORST SICKNESS contest. But, I won’t. Because Karma would certainly guarantee that I paid the price for that. I’ve got way too much to do right now. Besides that, I just made another commitment to my blog and I don’t want to be dealing with another break-up so soon.