HITTING THE WALL

Snow Tuesday cancels my last grad course of the semester.  We decide to post the final class as a blog thread on our course site.  Then we decide to meet Monday for our final class.  Then the university tells us to meet Friday night, instead.  In the midst of all this, I have a final paper due electronically by Friday evening.  The paper is done by 10:30 p.m. Thursday evening when the Internet crashes.  Paper is printed out, but the electronic copy cannot be submitted since the Net is being a jerk. I manage to get thirty seconds of Internet connection and receive an email alert informing me that Friday's class is also cancelled, so even if I want to, I cannot submit a hard copy of the paper on time, nor do I have Friday afternoon to play with the Internet because I have to pick up college boy, which is the exact opposite direction of the university where my paper is due.  (Are you confused or exhausted yet?  I am.) I cannot get online either via wired or wireless connections, so I reset both routers multiple times, which basically means that I hit the reset buttons on each a half-dozen times while swearing, spitting, and shrieking.  Eventually the service comes back online and I am able to send my paper to its rightful place.

Good thing, too, because on Friday afternoon I am caught in traffic behind an accident on the interstate.  I have to drive about five miles out of my way, and take back roads to the university to fetch youngest for the winter break.  The 45-minute trip there takes a full 90 minutes.  Coming back at nearly the identical location but on the other side of the highway there is another accident.  We are sitting in a jam again.  A full three hours after leaving my desk at work to head north, I arrive back home with college boy after making a round trip that normally takes 90 minutes total.  I am now secretly relieved I have no final another 45 minutes southeast of my home.  I would cry.  Right here.  Right now.

On top of all this hoopla, I have an ear infection.  Nothing about this week is pretty; why should my inner ear be any different?

So, folks, I just want to introduce you to something.  Pink Floyd sang about it, not in so much context, but work with me.  Actually, I want to introduce myself, so here goes:  Wall, meet Self.  Self, meet Wall.

Please excuse me for not having anything stellar to tell you today nor any incisive commentary nor any witty repartee.  All I am is tired.  Exhausted.  Truly and deeply drained.  Today I am giving myself a Mulligan.  Pretend this blog entry is about something more interesting than musings about scheduling conflicts.  Pretend I am brilliant!

In the meantime, I am going to go put ear drops in my infected ear and allow myself the rest of time to embrace The Wall.  I mean, it's only a few short weeks until I start it up all over again.  With luck I will be brilliant again tomorrow, but for today just nod on your way by and mumble some kind words, like, "We knew her when ..." or "Too bad we'll never see how the blog ends..."  In the meantime, I'm going to speak gibberish while resting my eyes.  If I snore at you, it just means I'm listening really, really deeply.