Last day of sabbatical. I guess I was soooo excited I couldn’t sleep. I woke up at five. I tried and tried to go back to sleep. I was even too restless to just lie there, all snuggly in my comforters. I don’t mind going back to work tomorrow. It’s probably time. I’m going to run out of money if I don’t. It’s going to be hard, tho. After a week of vacation, it’s hard enough for me to get back into the swing of things, I don’t know what three weeks off is going to do to me. After vacations, I feel sort of like someone coming out of a dark cave, into the light, for the first time in a long time. Blinking and blurry, rubbing my eyes… disoriented. Sort of like… being born. Yes, coming back from vacation is a lot like birth, leaving the soft, comforting, dark womb for the bright, sterile, chaotic hospital room. Only your head isn’t all squished into a point. Hopefully.
My estimation is that it takes one day for each week you are off, to recover and get back into the swing of things.
Monthly Archives: November 2004
How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spreads his claws. And welcomes little fishes in, with gently smiling jaws.
My stepdad just came in with his girlfriend’s dog. It’s a fluffy type dog, white, with a fancy haircut.. a bichon? Whatever.* I knew it probably wasn’t the best idea, because Pru has never been around a dog before. And I warned him, that she wasn’t going to like it. At first, when Ron was holding the dog, Pru sorta sniffed at him. I thought that when Ron let the dog go, Pru would bolt for my room, but she stood her ground. I was standing in the kitchen, going through some mail, watching them. Whenever the dog approached, Pru arched up and started hissing and pfftzing. She also made this terrible wail that sounded scared. But she didn’t act scared. She acted wary. Turns out, the wailing sound merely means, “If you come one step closer, I will apply my shiv-like claws to your stupid dog face. Be warned, mutt.” I could only assume that by leaving the dog running around, and going about his business, Ron expected the two of them to work it out. And work it out she did.
Hiss! Pftz-pfftz!!
*I’m not the fluffy pedigree dog with a fancy haircut type. I’m more of your mixed breed or lab type dog type.
Oh my god, you guys… it was awful!
I’ve been without internet since Sunday! Yes! It was horrible and scary. Because now I desperately need to look up the rules, regulations and laws concerning my immigration to Canada. Am I immigrating or emigrating? I’m immigrating to Canada, I’m emigrating from the US. It doesn’t have to be Canada, per se, but that does seem the closets and most convenient for me. Plus, I know the language.
Or I could just stick around for the next four years and fight for my right to chose, my free speech, my right to read whatever I want, my right to marry whomever I want, my right to expect the church to keep out of the state, and just about everything else that made me happy to be American. Oy. Just thinking about it makes me tired. But… I guess we have work to do for the next four years.