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Oog. I seem to have picked the worst two days this week to be at home (Thursday and Friday; supposed to be HUMID again). But I was also told not to come to work on July 3, because my boss doesn't know why the school isn't closed in the first place. (Because it's a Monday and the second year students want all the clinic time they can get. And because it's summer and nobody thought of it.)

I can't quite recite the entirety of Standard 2 yet, but I've just been through it for at least the fourth time this month, and I'm sick of it. I have to go back through it a fifth time and sort out the syntax in about 35 Pathways to Competency sections, and a sixth time to make sure all the course numbers are both correct and included where they should be. And probably a couple more times as I run across other things that have to be consistent through 300 pages and most likely aren't.

As a break from Standard 2, I wrote the third draft of the Scope of General Dentistry statement, because the second draft (which I didn't write) was a single impenetrable sentence. I wrote the first draft too. (Just don't ask me why I, as Curriculum Coordinator, wrote the Scope of General Dentistry statement. It belongs to Clinical Affairs, but nobody in Clinical Affairs was going to admit they should be writing it, and my boss asked me to, that's why.)

Tomorrow is Lily's eleventh birthday, according to the vet records she came to me with. I hope she doesn't end up getting more dental surgery as a birthday present on Thursday, but I only hope so because it wouldn't be any fun for her. I can afford it, and if it needs doing so she can eat happily, it needs doing. Quality of life is important.

I wish I knew what to do about my own quality of life, because my life is accreditation so much that I dream about work more often than not these days. I'm almost afraid to try drinking alcohol at bedtime, because if it works, I don't want to need to drink before bed.
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Last week was not very much fun for anybody in my household. The week before last was not very much fun for me. However, the universe seems to have taken notice, because yesterday I wandered into the basement at Brookline Booksmith and came up with six first edition Pogo books I didn't own already (Uncle Pogo's So-so Stories, Deck Us All With Boston Charlie, A Pogo Panorama, Prehysterical Pogo, Pogo Reruns, and We Have Met the Enemy and He is Us. I left Pogo's Will Be That Was and two copies of Pogo's Double Sundae there, because I've owned those for years now.) And then I wandered off to get my hairs cut, and met one of the faculty members there getting his hairs cut too. I wasn't quite in the right frame of mind to have my personal and professional worlds collide like that, so I sort of floundered.

I did get my $20 back on Friday. Also on Friday I had cause to be glad I wasn't drinking anything when the faculty member from Barcelona was in our side of the office talking about class pets, because when he said "hamster", he sounded EXACTLY like Manuel from Fawlty Towers. That would have been an interesting choking fit to have to explain.

Anyway, I survived work on Friday (just barely; I am now responsible for making sure Standard 2 lists all the correct appendices, exhibits and tables, and that we know we need all of them) and tottered off to a massage appointment. OW. Both hips, my right ribcage and my left shoulder were all so tight that they itched when they let go, and that was the first time I've ever been asked if we could skip working on my legs because my back wouldn't have been sorted out in time. The itchy places finally got around to being sore yesterday evening, after I went grocery shopping and cat-supply shopping (Wellness Core cat food is on my List for the Minister of Convenience now; they changed the design of their bags so I had to hunt for the right kind of food, and they put less food in the new bags, but they haven't changed the price).

Earlier this month I woke up with a craving for Sally Lunn bread, but I couldn't find the recipe I know I had somewhere. So I had to ask Mom to send it to me, and then I had to go buy butter and milk and eggs (the only one of those I keep around is eggs, and I generally hard-boil them), and then it got HUMID, which isn't great bread-rising weather, and the upshot is I haven't actually made the bread yet. I should do it today so I can bring it to work tomorrow and not have it sitting around here.

If I'm really being smart, I should make coffee today so I can refrigerate it overnight and have iced coffee for breakfast tomorrow.
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I am a shameless enabler. I just loaned a coworker $20 to buy cigarettes, because he ran out two days ago and I have to keep working with him for two more days this week, and I don't want to deal with him being grumpy on account of nicotine withdrawal. At least he knows he's getting grumpy on account of nicotine withdrawal and thought it was hilarious when I said that's why I'm giving him money. He swears up and down he'll pay me back on Friday, but I'll believe that when I see it.

I am also a paranoid pet parent. I've seen Snip was eating and drinking, but I was worried about lack of evidence in the litterbox. It turns out she's started actually burying it (after a mere eight years). And Lily is having teeth problems again, I think. I'll have Dr. G look at them when he comes next week.

Besides those, I threw myself on a grenade on Monday and it has just exploded, so I spent the morning comparing two versions of the Summative Assessment Guidebook (a mere 185 pages) and making sure that all the changes from one version joined all the changes in the other version. So now we have one version that makes sense, and I have to wait for three other people to make changes in their personal versions and then do the whole process again.

I wish it were embroidery weather, but it's just humid enough to make my hands start sweating after I've been holding the frame for five minutes. Doing this pattern in five-minute chunks isn't very satisfying, and I need to create something satisfying because I'm creating frustrating things at work.
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Yesterday I came home and discovered that Snip had yarfed up breakfast and didn't want dinner at all. This is the cat who wanted dinner after swallowing an embroidery needle. Besides which, she wasn't really acting like herself either (lethargic, and staring off into space instead of going to sleep). I decided that if she didn't want breakfast, we were going to Angell in the morning.

This morning she woke me up demanding breakfast and company while she ate it, and has kept it down and is acting much more like herself. Thank goodness. But what did I want cats for, again?

This morning I also woke up with a thundering headache. I'd had it since at least 4:00, when I woke up for no apparent reason and then went back to sleep at 5:30. I don't know if it's post-stress (Standard 2 got released into the wild yesterday at lunchtime), or weather (it rained) or something else (my neck is sore, so it might be the end result of a muscle spasm). Fortunately, three Advil and a pint of oolong tea got rid of most of it.

It seems to be trying to get brighter out and the sidewalks are drying off, which I approve of, and I am going to the gospel concert tonight if I have to take the Advil bottle with me. And, on the bright side of things, I didn't look at which pair of jeans I put on this morning and was pleasantly surprised that it was the smaller pair. That means it's not time to stop eating cheese entirely. It is time to stop buying butter and pasta for a while, though, because I combine entirely too much of both when I have them around.
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The weather is lovely again, having been shoot-me-now hot Sunday through Tuesday. It was 85 in the living room at 9:30 on Tuesday night and I couldn't get any cooler air indoors for some reason, even though it was cooler outdoors.

Last night was excellent sleeping weather, and I went and ruined it by having a frustration dream. I've been having a lot of those lately, and they all involve shouting at somebody (usually somebody who I would really like to shout at, but I can't in real life; the two I remember are Trump and, last night, Dad). I've also bitten through my night guard sometime in the last couple of weeks. I do not shout at anybody when I'm awake, but maybe I should start. Or maybe I should go somewhere way out in the back of beyond and shout at trees or something.

For lack of shouting at things, I bought myself a ticket to the Boston Pops 25th anniversary gospel concert on Saturday. One of my coworkers sings with them, and I could use a dose of raise-the-roof music (especially if I'm not singing it myself, which is work). Besides, I haven't been to Symphony Hall in something like 15 years, so I'm probably overdue.

I'm taking the last two days of June off, and am considering going and finding out what the heck is in Providence other than at least one tattoo shop and the train station. I just have to get through tomorrow, all of next week, and three days of the week after next. I hope I can actually manage that.
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I treated my angry and jealous and sad from the other day with retail therapy, to wit: buying out-of-print books I grew up with. Everybody ought to own Harry the Fat Bear Spy by Gahan Wilson (yes, THAT Gahan Wilson) if for no other reason than the threatening letters:

1. "HELP! I am turning GREEN! Somebody stop it! Somebody BETTER stop it! Signed, The Turning Green Bear."

2. (I forget exactly how it goes, but it ends with "and if I am STILL GREEN tomorrow I will do something TERRIBLE! Signed, The Green Bear.")

3. "It is tomorrow and I am STILL GREEN, and I have done something TERRIBLE, JUST LIKE I SAID! Signed, The Terrible Green Bear."

I already own Harry and the Sea Serpent, which is the second and last of the books about Harry the Fat Bear Spy, and is notable for containing an excellent quote: "I'M the one who talks to strangers! And they usually wish I hadn't!"

Everybody also ought to own A Great Big Ugly Man Came Up and Tied His Horse to Me, by Wallace Tripp, if for no other reason than to look at the illustrations. The fact that two or three of my favorite silly poems came from that book doesn't hurt either. So now I have incoming silly out-of-print books, and that makes me happy.

I walked home last night because the weather was excellent and I had to go to the Walgreens in Brookline Village anyway. I don't remember walking home being as much exertion as it was yesterday, so obviously I had better start doing it again. Today was an excellent day until it got cloudy again, but I got out for lunch and the weather was exactly what I ordered. For once.
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One foot in front of the other. Standard 2 is back to 292 pages, Table 2 is down to 19 pages, and I had to go pelting out at 1:00 yesterday to try to send some documents to a consultant in Philadelphia for same-day delivery. The only way to do that would have been to get on a train at South Station with them and take them to Philadelphia myself. We decided that delivery at 8:00 this morning was close enough, so I sent them by FedEx. Since my boss had said "See you tomorrow" when I left, I didn't go back to work after the FedEx office; I went to Otto (mushroom and roasted cauliflower pizza, which hit the spot) and then I went home. The Hairy Beasts were highly suspicious, because the last time I came home in the middle of a weekday afternoon, the vet appeared six minutes later. No vet this time, though.

What I should have done yesterday afternoon is go to Target, because I have enough of a List to make it worthwhile. But doing that would have required me to go back to the vicinity of work again, and not being at work in the afternoon already felt odd enough without being in the neighborhood with no intention of going back to work. So I went home instead and freaked the cats out.

It wasn't a good day to be Snip, yesterday. First there was the whole "suspicion of vet" incident, and then after dinner there was something she didn't like about the weather. I didn't hear any thunder, but it rained hard and she came slinking into the living room and hid under my knees for a while. She snapped out of it when I lay down on the floor and she discovered my sweatshirt cords and proceeded to kill one of them. And sometime last night she dropped her puffball in the water dish, again, which makes the water undrinkable because there's a puffball in it and makes the puffball untouchable because it's wet. Silly beast.

I should figure out why I have such a problem with washing the floors. I got to the point in the cleaning fit list when that was all that was left, and came to a screeching halt. Partly it's the idea of getting everything out of the kitchen except the table and the butcher blocks, and partly it's the fact that I have to sweep and swiffer the floors before I wash them and that's more work than I wanted at the end of the list. But it makes sense to do the floors last, because everything else (dust, cat hair) that gets cleaned off any other surface falls out of the sky and lands on the floors.

Hm. The Viking ship I saw in the pouring cold rain last October will be in Mystic until this September and open for tours. I think I might try to go see it on a day that isn't pouring cold rain, and get some better pictures.
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Yesterday (which was HMS/HSDM graduation day) I said that if I had any brains at all, I would have taken today off. And I was absolutely right, because we spent about four hours between 10:00 and 2:00 being locked out of the REB because of a hazmat situation that was actually a crime scene. Somebody committed suicide by inhaled anesthesia in one of the labs in the REB last night and the body was found this morning. Because it was a lab, and because they didn't know if the person had tried to do anything with any other chemicals, it was called in as a hazmat situation and the REB was evacuated. So a couple of classes were held in the HMS cafeteria.

Meanwhile nobody told anybody in the Main building (which is where my office is) anything at all, so we were all wondering if we should evacuate because maybe there was a chemical spill, or maybe we shouldn't because maybe we're locked in while the REB is locked out, or maybe if we do evacuate we won't be able to get back in again so maybe we shouldn't, but nobody actually told us anything. Meanwhile every fire truck in Boston had descended on Longwood Ave and the street itself was closed. Eventually the truth got out, but we weren't really in much of a state to be productive for the rest of the afternoon. My boss kicked me out at 2:30 when the garage opened again and she could get to her car.

I wish the person who died had felt able to ask for help. I can see how they might not have; as much as we claim to be working on inclusiveness, there's a definite caste system, and staff are on the bottom of the faculty/students/staff pyramid and lab technicians are on the bottom of the faculty/postdocs/lab technicians pyramid.

I think I need to go light some incense.
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OW.

Last night I had to go pick up a case of bottled tea from Trader Joe's, so I went out at a little before 6:00 with the granny cart I hate (it sounds like a bag of wire coat hangers falling out of a tree, but it has more capacity than the quiet one) and the empty kitty litter jugs, because as long as I had wheels, I figured I'd restock the kitty litter.

The case of tea turned out to be bigger than I thought, so it had to stand on end in the cart and take up most, but not all, of the space. It also amounted to three gallons of tea, and water weighs eight pounds a gallon to begin with, before you add bottles and a box, and before you add roughly 30 pounds of kitty litter on top of it. I left the pet store pulling roughly 55 pounds of heavy stuff. And it was still rush hour enough that I didn't want to get glared at when I got on the train with it (and I wasn't entirely sure I could dead lift it high enough to get on the train anyway). So I pulled 55 pounds of heavy stuff home from Harvard and Comm Ave, uphill, in the rain, with a cart that sounds like a bag of wire coat hangers falling out of a tree, and that SUCKED.

By the time I got everything upstairs and had lain on the floor whimpering for a little while, it was 8:00. I had some dinner, collapsed into the bathtub for half an hour, took some Advil and went to bed.

This morning I don't really hurt, but I'm stiff all over. Next time I'll take the train and live with being glared at.

I hadn't had dreams about accreditation yet before this morning, and the dream I had got the accreditation mixed up with lab exercises, graduation, and chorus rehearsals, so I was somehow in the class of 2017 and doing waxup exercises because the Dean wanted me to be a DMD student for accreditation purposes (don't ask me why), but the assistant conductor from chorus was the lab instructor. Obviously my brain is cleaning house and throwing everything from the last month into the trash can.

At least today is the awards ceremony for the graduating class. I like to go to that. I guess that means I had better fall back into Standard 2 for the next three hours, though.
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I walked three miles today in the pursuit of getting both quilts washed.

The laundromat is half a mile from home, and there was only one washer open when I got there, so I started one quilt and went grocery shopping. On the way back from grocery shopping I started the other and took the laundry soap and groceries home, so that was one mile.

After I put the groceries away I went back to the laundromat again (with a bottle of iced tea I had bought while grocery shopping) and put the first quilt in the dryer, and hung around waiting for the second quilt to get done in the wash, and put it in another dryer. It turned out that the first quilt dried fast, so I pulled it out early and took it home. That was two miles.

Then I had to go back for the second quilt and bring it home. That was three miles. Oh, and I forgot, I walked home from taking myself out to breakfast, so it was probably four miles. No wonder my feet hurt in places. (I need new sneakers, too. It turns out the phantom white spot on the top of my left sneaker is actually white sock appearing through a hole in the black mesh. It doesn't show when I wear black socks.)

Today's life lesson is, if I want to get anything done for the rest of the morning, don't have biscuits and gravy for breakfast. I more or less dragged myself home afterward and wanted a nap until the caffeine cut through the carbs. At which point began the quilt-washing saga.

After I got the quilts washed, I came home and did the domestic laundry. It ended up being only two loads (I would have sworn it was three), but the last of it is in the dryer now, and I feel accomplished. Especially since while the first load was in the wash, I sat down and typed out the minutes from the chorus committee meeting last Monday. Now I can stop remembering to do that. I spent so much of this week at work wrestling with Standard 2 that the last thing I wanted to do when I got home was type anything else.

The cats are much happier with low 60s than they were with low 90s. I still wish we'd had a thunderstorm, though. The one I slept through on Thursday night doesn't count, because I slept through it.
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The short version is, oof. That's all. Just oof.

The long version is, Standard 2 is now 300 pages long and has an introduction and tables and diagrams. And I have rewritten bits of the introduction and at least six of the 40 sections, and reformatted at least 32 of the 40 sections, and I still have a lot of stuff to stick in there (some of which is data I have more of than I actually want, so I have to prune it, and some of which is data I won't get until after graduation next week, and some of which is data I have, but it won't fit in the table allotted for it, so I have to figure out how to include it all and make it legible at the same time).

When I'm not doing that, I'm working on data for Table 2, which is Institutional Outcomes Assessment and has nothing to do with Standard 2. Table 2 is now 20 pages long. Fortunately I'm not responsible for all of it, but what I am responsible for is looking through six years of surveys and writing down results from certain questions, and then taking the average and hoping it comes out better than the benchmark from seven years ago.

When I'm not doing anything related to accreditation, I'm making a curriculum map for a six-year combined MD/DMD program, which is actually kind of fun. And I get the Dimly Aware award for looking at the narrative that turned into the map and saying "Wait a minute, this says they'll be going straight from second-year foundational dental courses to seeing dental patients two years later after a lot of medical school rotations. They can't see dental patients without at least taking Diagnosis and Treatment Planning and Treatment of Active Disease, can they?" No, they can't, so now they have to. I feel better. (I do feel sorry for the student who got her DMD in 2015 and is now finishing her first year of medical school, though. It's going to take her eight years to get both degrees.)

When I'm not doing any of the above, I'm messing around with journal articles. If I had known the deadline for the third set of revisions to the JDE article was in July, I wouldn't have been so worried about it. Oh well, it's off my conscience now anyway and I really hope the reviewers are done picking nits, because ain't nobody got time for a fourth round of revisions. The other article, for Innovations in Teaching and Training International, needs to be reformatted (why can't we all agree on one format for citations, and why do I always have to change the one we started with to something else?) before I can submit it.

It got HOT and the cats are, as usual, convinced it was my idea and would like me to take it back. It will be better tomorrow; I just want to know if we're really going to have a thunderstorm (I hope so), and if so, when. Hopefully sometime when I'm indoors, and preferably after Snip has eaten her dinner. If not, either I have to wait until half an hour after the thunder is done with, or I have to sit in the bathroom with her and play London Bridge so she can hide under my legs while she eats.

I'm glad tomorrow is Friday. I wish I didn't have two separate accreditation-related meetings at 10:00 and noon tomorrow, though. It's going to be a long morning, and I'm still sick and tired of meeting-food sandwiches. I could get around that by bringing my own sandwich, I suppose.
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I've finally figured out that the problem with work these days is it's a dichotomy paradox. The self-study is Almost There, but it's going to keep changing by teeny tiny degrees of Almost There every day until the middle of July, at which point it will be There by virtue of having a hard deadline. The teeny tiny degrees of Almost There are hard to see, though, and living among them is tiring. That's why I keep saying I want to go back to bed and stay there until next April.

On the home front, I managed to give Snip one tenth of a manicure by letting her sit in my lap and get a claw stuck in my jeans, and cutting it before she figured out it was stuck. She thought that wasn't fair, but she's not the one who gets her leg pierced when she gets claws stuck in my jeans. And I'm the one with the opposable thumbs.

Oh, make up your minds, will you? Three months ago the half-day every Friday for six months course didn't need a final evaluation survey, because it was only four hours a week maximum. Today it needs a survey. It ended two months ago; do you really think anybody's going to fill out a survey on it now? ARGH.

Chorus committee meeting tonight. I'm debating whether I want coffee or beer first. Coffee would be a good idea in terms of taking minutes; beer would be a good idea in terms of listening to the same people have the same conversations for a couple of hours (it's supposed to be a one-hour meeting) and yet again fail to arrive at any useful conclusions. However, ubi caritas et amor, dei ibi sunt (which is probably grammatically wrong, but I know what I mean), so I can try to be charitable and not say what I'm thinking.

At least next week is graduation, so everybody ought to start being happier by the end of this week. And the weather is supposed to remember it's the middle of May, not the beginning of April, starting tomorrow. That'll help too.
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The Boston Music Intelligencer reviewed our concert, and said "More diction." In Sanders, you can't be on the stage and hear what the audience hears (or doesn't). I suggested we should circulate a few people per section through the house when we rehearse in there, so "more diction" will actually mean something to more of us, as opposed to being something the conductor says five or six times per rehearsal all semester, so we stop listening when he says it.

I have had it up to the eyebrows with responsible adulthood, and it's only Wednesday. This week the Gainful Employment subdivision of Responsible Adulthood needs to be good for more things than providing food, shelter, and payments for utilities, so I'm running off to the movies (Guardians of the Galaxy vol 2) tonight, rather than going home and doing the rest of the laundry.

Speaking of washing, I've ruined one of my favorite things about having a cat who hunts. These days Lily won't go into the bathroom voluntarily unless I'm in the bathtub (in which case there's no chance that the vet will descend upon her), so she won't come hunt grillonpedes in the tub. And I am damn well not getting into the tub myself if there's a grillionpede in it. Which, this morning, there was, and it was very large. And I had to flush it down the drain myself. Harumpf.

I have to make an appointment for Lily to have blood drawn sometime next month. She seems to be doing OK in all the observable-by-owner categories (eating, using the litterbox, sleeping, reminding Snip who's in charge, generally acting like herself), but I have no way of knowing what her internal chemistry is up to.

Snip got a claw stuck in the masking tape around my embroidery last night, and even that didn't convince her she needs a manicure. She does, desperately, but she's rather like Granny Weatherwax in terms of things she can't be having with.
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I needed a three-day weekend, but that wasn't going to happen. So the laundry didn't get done, including I didn't go to the laundromat with the quilts. I did put the new quilt on the bed when I changed the sheets, and Snip promptly got confused (I knew she would) and decided the new quilt feels funny to walk on but is OK to sleep on. Silly beast. This happens every time I change anything about the covers.

The concert went; as usual, we could have had more audience, but the fact that it started raining at 4:00 and didn't stop until after 10:00 probably had something to do with that. I wouldn't have gone out in the rain if I hadn't had to. But it went, and I only made a mistake every other page or so, but no really glaring ones. And then I stood in the rain for 40 minutes because rain dissolves buses in Harvard Square. I finally went to bed at 11:30 and slept until 10:00 Saturday morning.

Saturday being damp, grey and gloomy, I didn't do a whole lot with it (except the dishes) until the sun suddenly appeared after lunch. Then I decided I had better go grocery shopping. I gave myself permission not to try to break any land speed records getting there, and decided that what I really wanted was to be parked in the sun for a couple of hours with a very large bowl of vegetable soup. I didn't get the soup, but I did amble around in the sunshine and manage to buy canned cat food, so we're not running out of that. We are, however, out of luck in the matter of Greek olive oil with lemon juice in it, and bottled oolong tea (which I would have bought a case of, except it was only there for a week).

On Sunday I ate my damn fool head off, which I shouldn't have done, and went grocery shopping again for things I hadn't wanted to carry on Saturday. I also made vegetable soup out of a box of broth,a piece of Parmesan rind, a medium zucchini, a medium carrot, a small can of diced tomatoes, and some frozen corn and lima beans. And a pantload of chives and dill and half a pantload of pepper. That'll be lunch for the middle of the week, especially since I also bought bread and cheese to have with it.

Ever since I got that 48-hour whatever-it-was a couple of weeks ago, eating anything with a lot of processed sugar in it makes me feel run down about half an hour later. It's extremely odd to be put off by the mere thought of eating chocolate, and I actually threw away the two half-eaten dark chocolate bars I had at home. This is unheard of, and I wonder if the whatever-it-was didn't kill off some particular gut bacteria. I'll never know, though, because I don't have a Before to compare the After with.
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Oh, my creakin' cranium.

I knew this week was going to suck pond water through a flavor straw. Monday was OK, and then I went to chorus rehearsal and got home at 10:30, but couldn't decompress enough to sleep until midnight. Dragged myself out of bed on Tuesday morning and spent the whole day with oatmeal where my brain was.

Tuesday night I managed to stay up late enough to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and slept like a rock. Woke up on Wednesday morning feeling human, went to work and got stuff done (oh, look, there are two different versions of Standard 2-7 in this document; that's not good), and then I went to chorus rehearsal and got home at 10:30, and had to concentrate too hard on decompressing by 11:30.

This morning I had a weird dream about trying to fly from Barbados to Guam and having my luggage come off the plane in Barbados as individual articles of clothing on the conveyor belt, but no suitcase. Then they found my suitcase and wanted to know why there were embroidery scissors in the lining. I explained that by pulling embroidery out of the lining too, although I don't know why I was keeping it there (and I never take scissors on a plane; I use nail clippers). It was a pattern I've never seen before, but it was very pretty and there was about half of it done. I wish I could remember exactly what it was, so I could write it down and stitch it. It was geometry and flowers.

Today I have systemic oatmeal; it's in my muscles and my brain, but I'm a little better mentally than I was on Tuesday. I still am not breaking any records for brain power and I'm not even trying to revise any complicated documents, but I can at least go to meetings and pretend I know what the hell is going on. Just don't ask me whether I want to be in the meetings in the first place.
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Friday was actually a good day, to the point where on Friday night I was feeling pleased with myself for getting through a large slice of the self-study, and I got paid on Friday, and it was the weekend, and it was nice outdoors. And my boss kicked me out of the office at 4:45, having bought me some iced tea from Starbucks besides. I spent my extra 15 minutes paying all the bills when I got home, and it was so nice out that I went out for dinner afterward. I couldn't decide between Korean and Vietnamese noodles, but it ended up being Vietnamese at the Super 88 in the form of summer rolls AND rice noodle salad. That was more food than I probably should have eaten, but I ate all of it and didn't feel overstuffed.

On Saturday morning I had a carrot and a piece of lemon cake for breakfast, and wondered why the hell there wasn't any food in the house. Because I felt icky last weekend and didn't go grocery shopping, that's why. So I went grocery shopping and got rather carried away, but managed not to buy canned cat food because TJ's didn't have that. This is getting ridiculous; I had to mail-order dry cat food last week because Petco hadn't had that for two weeks. I still have at least half a case of wet food, though, so it won't be a disaster for another month. Since I went grocery shopping in sandals, I gave myself blisters, and I had to come home and do laundry so I could go out again in clean non-wool socks. It was too hot for wool socks.

On Sunday I observed that the container I keep my change collection in was just about full, so I wandered off to the Coinstar machine and came away with $83 in cash. That's about right, because the container tends to hold about $90 and Coinstar machines gouge you on "processing fees". Oh well. I would sprain something carrying $83 in change around everywhere, and I don't think the credit union would cash in change for me. After that (and getting rained on, because of course I was outdoors for the ten minutes yesterday when it rained), I came home and cooked chickpeas and made a non-cruciferous bean salad (chickpeas, not quite enough dried tomatoes, absolutely not enough feta, chives, lemon juice, a teeny little bit of smoked olive oil, and less black pepper than I thought). Someday I will figure out what the hell is wrong with my pepper mill; it likes to dispense pepper all over the place behind whatever vessel I'm trying to grind pepper into.

The embroidery continues to go like gangbusters. Some of that is because I'm into the actual tree, and it has definite areas of single colors and I can see progress when I do that (as opposed to the bits where five stitches in a single color is a lot, and then you stand across the room and see leaves, instead of random blobs). Progress is happy stuff.
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This morning I wanted to know what sort of sacrifice the weather gods required before it could be sunny in the morning. As of lunchtime, it was gorgeous out, and after my lunch meeting (indifferent pizza, again) I escaped out into it for as long as it took to go to JP Licks and back. I wish I could have stayed outdoors for the rest of the afternoon, especially because I feel like I earned it. I got 50 pages of Standards 2-1 through 2-7 edited before 10:00 this morning, and then I went to a 10:00 meeting.

I particularly wanted that project out of my hair because I'm going to be no use to anybody next week. Fortunately the Monday chorus rehearsal got rearranged, so the chorus doesn't have to show up until 7:45. That's still a long night because the rehearsal goes until 10:00, but at least I'll have time to eat and actually digest my dinner beforehand. Wednesday is going to be 6:15 - 10:00, with a ten-minute break in it somewhere, and that's LONG. Especially for singers, and particularly in Sanders Theater in which it's pretty dry. The inside of my head usually feels like the Gobi Desert by the end of a rehearsal that long.

However, that's Wednesday. Today's Friday, and tonight I get to do my favorite ritual of the whole weekend: turning off the alarm clock before I go to bed. It did not particularly help anything that I fell down another internet rabbit hole last night and forced myself to go to bed when I looked up again and discovered it was midnight.

I'm looking forward to half an hour from now, when the most urgent problem I will have is whether I want japchae or pho for dinner.
dchenes: (Default)
I had a conversation with a coworker that led me into looking up whether there's a French translation of The Phantom Tollbooth. There is, and now I want to read it to find out if it's any good.

While I was cleaning out my bookshelves in the decluttering process, I discovered the copy of L'Oiseau Bleu that I kept because I wanted to try translating it. I kept it again, because I still want to take a crack at it some day.

This train of thought came about because I'm trying to wrap my brain around revising 38 pages of the accreditation self-study. It's rather like wading through peanut butter because (among other reasons) it was written by one person who doesn't write all that well and another person who doesn't type all that well. I have to figure out what they're trying to say, whether they actually said it, make it say that if not, and then elaborate on it. At least there's something there to build on. (There had better be; this thing goes to the printer in July and if we had only just started it now, nobody would be going home until then.)

OK, several years later, I think I'm making progress. Everything I don't know enough to write about is a thing I'm not supposed to know about.

Wish I had a feline/English dictionary, part N+1: Last night Snip was absolutely adamant that I come keep her company while she had her before-bed snack, and after that she was absolutely adamant that any part of me she could reach while she was standing on the bed and I was lying in it had to be headbutted and rubbed on. I have no idea what that was about. But I guess it means she's still speaking to me.
dchenes: (Default)
I seem to have had a 48-hour virus on Friday and Saturday, because while I've had muscle spasms, intractable headaches, unhappy intestines, heartburn, and a couple of other various symptoms before, I've never had them all at once before. There were maybe two hours of Saturday when I didn't have a headache, and I missed the March for Science. Fortunately, when I woke up on Sunday, I felt positively human again. And the weather was better on Sunday besides.

Petco persists in not having the right kind of dry cat food, because their suppliers seem to persist in not having it. I bought some regular indoor dry food, as opposed to the fancy indoor dry food, and since it's the same brand I hope it doesn't upset things too much. Snip will probably eat it if she figures out that that's all there is, and Lily will eat anything as long as it pretends it's poultry-flavored. (I have got to get video of her eating her morning thyroid pill; she really does act like she's eating chicken-flavored peanut butter.)

The embroidery is going like gangbusters lately. I finished page 4 and put a reasonably good dent in page 5 yesterday. I still can't decide if I want to cut down the linen once I get one complete row of pages done. It would be nice if I didn't have to wrangle the entire half yard all the time, and I have masking tape that's younger than Lily so I don't have to argue with it so much when I want to bind raw edges. But cutting fabric with completed embroidery on it gives me the blue creevles.

I went to the DTP tutors meeting, which involved a lot of discussion about TMJ-related tutorial cases, and now I'm very aware of my jaw. Silly brain.
dchenes: (Default)
Sometimes I have to laugh, or otherwise I'll cry.

86 the bean salad; my coworkers object to the smell of it (cauliflower) and it's too cold out to eat it outdoors. So I have a lot of bean salad I have to eat for dinner or throw away.

I have been working on revisions and reformats to an article for submission to the JDE. Today I got it back with final edits and all I have to do is delete one reference, renumber all the rest of them because deleting one throws off the numbering, delete one table and the paragraph that talks about it, reformat all the section headings and subheadings, and submit the thing online (which is a Process all by itself).

Then there's the article I just got, with instructions to "reformat for the JDE". All the references are in alphabetical order and formatted for the EJDE. So I have to number them in the order they appear in the article, and reorder and reformat the references list. Oh, and this article has no conclusion, so I have to write one, and no authors list, so I can't make a title page. And by the way, it has seven tables and four figures, and the JDE won't accept more than four tables and (I think) three figures. And I have to reformat all the section headings.

AND, did anybody give me any questions for the POH retake exam? No? Well, I'm going to get them, because it's happening tomorrow. At least I had heard of it before, so it wasn't a complete bolt from the blue.

AND, the tutors for Diagnosis and Treatment Planning are having a meeting on Monday, so please find a room and some lunch.

AND, the Year 2 course directors are having a two-hour lunch meeting next Thursday, so please send them the final course feedback surveys, which the students have roundly ignored because they're getting surveyed to death, and prepare to spend two hours in the meeting taking minutes.

AND, which version of the HSDM Competencies is the current one? And is it final yet? And what about the grading policy, is that final yet? And please put the competencies in this document in which you already put all the examination methods per course, but it's not the same version as the document you created last year, so you'll have to do it there too, and ask the Registrar to update the list with all courses from both curricula so you can fill in all the information for the old curriculum.

AND...

*whimper*
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