scrambled

There isn’t a good way to recover from an overextended week. Sleep? I can’t sleep. Not any more. I’m too tired to sleep. (A disinterested observer might suggest that I cut back on the Nespresso espressos I make for myself each day at home. To that disinterested observer I would reply that it’s either that or finding a device that would keep my eyelids from closing shut in the course of the day.)

I pedal home from work satisfied, but disappointed, too. Satisfied because the week went by and I did with it as much as I could. Not a minute wasted.

Disappointed because I still haven’t a clue as to how I should balance everything without winding up exhausted. And so I know that even if tonight I am free (from the shop, from class preparation), it is only a lull. The pace will pick up again this week-end and thereafter.


Still, it was a beautiful morning and I do love the ride, gusty wind notwithstanding.





And it was a beautiful afternoon, so that running down the hill for an espresso (no comment) was actually pleasurable.





And the classes were good, and the students were sharp and responsive. and I actually took the time to talk to colleagues at the Law School which, for me, is rare.


Still, that dusk, that awful dusk closed down on me again. It could be that it was the time Ed reached me to tell me the trial did not conclude on time and he would not be coming back today after all. It could be that I almost threw my hands up then, even though I don’t really throw my hands up, as I am not prone to dramatic gestures. It could be that I had no food at home as we were supposed to go out to celebrate his return. It could be that I wanted to tell Ed this, even as he was spinning on to the next sentence and the next one. It could be that I never had a chance to say that my day had gone reasonably well and that the students were sharp and responsive...


I stopped three times on the bike ride home. To take a few photos of the lake at dusk.










... And to pick up eggs for a solo supper of scrambled eggs and whatever.

... And to say hi to my boss and coworker at the little shop down the hill where I moonlight.

Because at dusk, being around people who track your everyday is a good idea.


At home, I ate my scrambled supper, opened a new box of ginger snaps and thought long and hard about whether the cookies pair well with the cheap box wine I’d poured for myself this evening.