july 2, 2002.

Tired. Why am I so frigging tired these days? I get up & play on the computer for a few hours and I'm yawning. I go grocery shopping with the Boy and I need to lie down when we get home. This is not helping the StanFest preparations at all. At All.

I did, however, manage to launder all needed clothes. The advance food preparation and manic housecleaning will have to wait for tomorrow.

Have I mentioned how much I'm looking forward to this? As soon as we hit the road on Thursday it'll be nonstop sun n' fun n' tunes until they kick us the hell out on Monday. We heard today that we're working grounds security rather than gate security - yay! I anticipate a lot of walking around, trying to smell pot. Hell, it'll be good practice for next year when I become a semi-professional narc.

I'm also looking forward to correcting our mistakes from last year. This time I'll bring more than one pair of pants. This time we'll see what's what.

This afternoon we picked out the Boy's courses for next year. Just reading that over makes me cringe; it looks like a description of extreme henpecking or academic stage mothering of the worst kind. Really, it wasn't like that. The Boy had assembled a list of useful courses he needed/wanted to take and we prioritized & scheduled them today. As someone who just finished the leg of the journey he's about to begin I feel kind of like an expert. Like they'll call on me to testify at a university appeal. Your Honour, if she'd just taken Canadian History she wouldn't be in this pickle.

It is only in my fantasies that I get to say "pickle" to the judiciary.

Anyway, despite my "expert" status, I think my main contribution was to draw a stick-figure tableau of a satisfied Boy surrounded by happy children and label it "the goal." My stick figure tableaux are inspiring...just ask anyone.