24 Hours Later

I'm beginning to understand how they can make a TV show out of a mere 24 hours. The last day has been, though not as surreal or surprising as some I could name, definitely kaleidoscopic.

This time yesterday I was staggering into the Office, having broken all my own records by staying up until 4:30 AM the night before, finishing a piece of work that unexpectedly had to be in by 10 AM Monday morning.

"I've never felt like this before," I told Brittainy. "It's kinda exciting, like the first time I had to get my emissions tested. I don't know what will happen next. Will guys in white coats take my car away? Will I ever be allowed to drive again? Will they run the car over little bumpy things? Do I get to stay in it? Is it like a car wash?"

What I didn't mention was that my current state led me to ask questions more like "Is this dizzy feeling going to go away? How about the nausea? How soon can I get horizontal again? Whoa---can I walk?"

It was a trip. I got to work and spent pretty much the whole day on our office "thinking couch," prepping for my next assignment (Henry V) by reading and marking up the play. Suddenly I found myself deeply grateful that on my job every fourth or fifth day is one of solid reading. I don't think I could have managed much more yesterday.

By God's grace (and by means of Starbucks) I got through the work day with only a one-hour nap in the late afternoon, and without complaining (Brittainy had strict instructions to kick me if I complained). Then we went home, did a harsh yoga and pilates workout---ouch!---and made truly amazing grilled chicken salads for dinner. We ate on the deck, admired the flowers, and talked about what literary studies should be and how we can more nearly approximate that in our work.

At 9 PM (our days are such that workout frequently doesn't happen until 6 PM, with dinner finishing up about 8 PM), we strictly charged ourselves to watch only the first two episodes of Dickens' Our Mutual Friend. Brittainy loves it (I love that she loves it, though I expected her to do so), and we are going to stretch it out over the course of the rest of the week, savoring every beautifully-acted moment.

We were in bed by midnight. This morning I woke up to find Emma licking my eyelids, both paws firmly planted on my nose. I let her go on until I figured she had washed them thoroughly. It's as good as putting your face in a bowl full of icy water, for waking-up purposes. Over breakfast cereal and Bible verse memorization (Brittainy and I are working on Romans 12), I had to ask, "So, you put the weasel in my bed this morning?"

"No! Honest! I was in the bathroom."

I believed her, but believing her didn't prevent me from putting the ferret in my sisters' room, where both of them were still sleeping. "Weaseling" is a favorite morning prank in our home.

And now we begin the cycle all over again. Today I must examine the diction and action of Henry V---tomorrow is characterization and themes, and then I shall turn it in, God willing, Thursday morning. After that there will be only two more week-plans on my stack. Only two more... only another week and a half of this grueling schedule.... and then I shall be FREE!!!!

I really, really like my life. Domine mei, te gratias ago!