Oh, I've worked my tail off on my grad school work, writing the blog, getting organized, printing stuff out. I even wrote an entire essay for this week's grad class only to discover that I've probably done the assignment completely incorrectly and have to start all over again.
If it hadn't been for the hours and hours and hours of shoveling I've done since the days before the break and all the way through, I may have gotten more done. My house looks like hoarders live here. I have thesis paperwork in different piles all over the office (spare bedroom).
But the countdown is on. I am on my way to lacrosse Saturday morning, and I should probably put Sunday aside to do work I was supposed to do a week ago. Here's the thing, though. I don't have a moment's regret about how I spent my time. My daughter moved, I cat-sat, I went to trivia with friends, I went to lunch with other friends, I spent a couple of days hanging out with yet another friend, and I shoveled. I shoveled the Thursday before break, Saturday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights. Chances are I'll shovel again before I step one toe inside that school again on Monday.
I'm not worried, though. If it snows, I have plenty to keep me busy until it's time to move my car and clear the snow off of it. That "plenty to do"?
I spent most of my break shoveling... (Stop me if you've heard this one before.)
