Welcome to the first annual Markapalooza! Re-entry strongly discouraged...
Yeearrcghfm.
I marked from 8:30 this morning until 5:30 this evening, pausing only to bolt down some lentils & brown rice and dodge the increasingly frantic inquiries of my department head. "They'll be in soon," I said, ducking my head to avoid his gaze and practically running for the sanctuary of my room. I played 6 records all the way through and I marked until my eyes bugged out of my head. By the time I was ready to enter the marks and add comments, I was far beyond caring how the parents might read my semi-relevant scrawl. Sure, I can defend it if asked, but I don't really want to.
I can't believe that the year starts again in 3 fucking days. Just the thought is making the panic come spiralling back into the place it carved from my heart last Fall.
Breathe with me.
By the way, the Boy saved my bacon this morning. When I told him about the big rat race I'd have to run today, he said the utterly obvious thing that unsnarled my whole life. Ten simple words: 'why don't you bring in the files on a disk?'
He, not the drugs, is the wind beneath my wings.
This weekend, instead of doing the sensible things I'm paid to do, I started re-scanning my wedding photos. Now with 10% more blushing per bride.
Tonight I'm Dance Cavin', and since writing this is giving me a wicked headache, I'll beg off now.
