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First Week of Classes

TB’s day so far:

5:55am:  Woke up 5 minutes before the alarm.  I like that – not shocked awake by the alarm, but not up ungodly time before it goes off either (like yesterday, when I woke up at 4:15 or so and could not get back to sleep.

5:58:  Snuggle with Dys for a second.

6:00:  Alarm goes off.  I get up and hop into the shower.

6:03:  Appreciate the nice clean shower that I scrubbed last night.  Successfully avoid slipping and falling due to adhesive duck deficiency.  (BBT joke that Dys and Tiff just laughed at.  If you’ve never seen it and refuse to watch the vid, just take my word that my joke is fucking funny.)

6:20:  Finish shower and noggin-shave.  Get dressed.  Change my mind, skip usual white undershirt for a black Under-Armor-type shirt.

6:28:  Attempt to wake Dys.  Since I don’t know how late she was up (I’m often in a coma before she’s done working) I ask if she wants to get up.  She says “Yes.”

6:30:  Wake Boy.

6:35:  Negotiate breakfast with him.  He takes the last leftover chocolate chip muffin from Sunday morning.  I try to convince him to eat something else as well; he demurs, so I back off.

6:40:  Make  PBJ’s for me and Boy.  Cut up Boy’s apple.

6:50:  Boy goes to get dressed.  I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit down to catch The Weather Channel.

7:01:   Jen Carfagno is cute.

7:05:  Chuck dishes in dishwasher.  Brush my teeth.  Try to wake Dys again on the way through the bathroom.  She’s out cold, so I let her sleep.  No sign of the dog, who is probably contentedly snoozing under Dys’s side of our bed.

7:10:  Help Boy manage his slightly-too-long buzzcut into a spiked ‘do.

7:15:  Remember that I haven’t yet found my autograph pen for Indy (just in case, though I did get 4 autographs last year, including the eventual race winner Jorge Lorenzo).  Go downstairs to look for it.  Fail to find it, but find my good map of Indianapolis, so I grab it and throw it with the stuff to pack.

7:20:  Grab my rubber mallet and head out the door with Boy.

7:25:  Drop Boy off.  A couple of older girls in plaid skirts open the door for him.  Sadly I can’t see the expression on his face, which was surely hilarious.

7:40:  At my, err, un-airconditioned auxiliary fiefdom, the “other space” my office uses.  With my rubber mallet.  I start banging on things.  Whackety whackety.   When someone checks to see if I’m okay, I reassure them that it’s not a big loud clang to worry about.  If I fall off a ladder or something conks me on the head, it’ll be a muted THUD.

8:30:  The first of two people I’m supposed to meet show up. Meanwhile, it’s warm enough even on a pleasant day in this building that I’m patting myself on the back for choosing the Under Armor undershirt.

9:00:  The second hasn’t shown.

9:10:  I call my office to get the number for his office.  Call his office.  He’s had to make another meeting first, then he’ll be there.

9:30:  Second guy shows.  Quick pow-wow.  All set.

9:45:  I hit the university credit union and nab cash for the GP.

9:55:  Back on my usual side of campus, looking for a parking spot.  I know my usual lot will have been full since 9, so I head to the backup lot.  It’s full.

9:57:  OTHER backup lot is full.

9:59:  OTHER OTHER backup lot is full.  Fuck.

10:02:  Back to my auxiliary office.  THAT lot now full.  FUCK FUCK.

10:04:  Find the LAST AVAILABLE SPOT in the lot on the other side of the block from my auxiliary office.  Call my coworkers and reassure them that, in fact, I am coming in to work today.  My office manager laughs at me.

10:06:  Lugging 30 pounds of extraneous stuff all the way across campus.   Luckily I left the rubber mallet in the car or the University Police might have had an interesting meeting with me.  (Not necessarily the first, but the most interesting, probably.)

10:07:  It’s been a long time since I walked across campus with the students here.  Hello, ladies!  [does quick math]  Even the seniors are closer to my son’s age than mine now.  [mentally slaps self, stares straight ahead]

10:09:  Pass a girl and a guy walking toward me.  Girl:  “Do you want to come back to my room and work on this…”  I lose the rest of the conversation as we’re past each other.  But:  dude, I don’t know what you’re working on, but the answer to that question is yes.

10:12:  My associate dean and a coworker are manning a booth outside my building labeled “Find My Class.”  Freshmen are congregated around it, getting directions to wherever they’re going.  This is pretty cool.

10:13:  I get on the elevator to find a more senior coworker, and the chair of my Big Review committee, on there.  She says, “Oh, I’ll ride up to your floor with you.”  She then discusses my Big Review with me for a second.  I get a positive vibe from her, I think.

10:15:  In the office.  I turn on my tiny-ass fan to high and go to the bathroom to wash up.

10:20:  In chair.  Responding to a dozen emails.  Sending a few snarky tweets.  Daydreaming of Indy in a few days…


3 Responses

  1. Oh, I heart TBBT.

    Um. WHAT was the mallet for?

    For banging on shit.

    Mission accomplished!

    (I had to assemble some things. In the past I’ve had to influence them via whacking with my palm. The rubber mallet is much more effective.)

  2. Consider the hike from the parking lot and extra mini-workout! See how great you’re doing? 😉

    Yeah, I LOVE to walk red-faced and sweating in front of a pack of 19-year-old sorority girls in short shorts. Not awkward at all!

  3. So…you don’t “rub one out” in the morning before work, huh? Maybe you should’ve.

    Maybe so!

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