I can’t go. I have too much work for this night.
Lunch speakers I can’t listen to (classes, never-ending classes interfere), conferences that pass me by, social events that are for anyone and everyone. So they say.
It’s been a very very work-packed semester.
Two more days. Two more days.
Walking away from school, away from the party, I face a somber world of cold drizzle. Eastern European weather. I expect it there, not so much here. Not day after day of this. Enough already.
In the evening, Ed volunteers to help. I am happy about this, but the reality is that I can’t split the tasks. And so I persevere, but with him at the side, at least looking sympathetically on, bringing a bubbly or some nuts when hunger or exasperation have me reach out for something to nibble or sip.
Monday is almost over. Tuesday will be the essence of impossibility, Wednesday will pick up the pieces of what could not be accomplished on Tuesday. That’s it. Not a penny more. Thursday I turn my back on all but the emails. There’ll be work – lots of it during what is officially called “winter break” but you wont hear me moaning about it. Everyone has period when they're saddled with work, after all. It’s just that most at least can attend a winter party. Not me. Not this year. It's been a brutal stretch of weeks.
