This update is brought to you by the words "ennui" and "phlegm."
Reveille: For the last two mornings, the cat has not whined for breakfast; she's gagged. You know, that horrible, hacking, "I'm about to throw a hairball" sound? In my ear. Before dawn. Time to see the vet.
The cold: My other symptoms are all gone, but I have some lingering chest congestion. The cat is probably complaining in her kitty blog about her owner's horrible, hacking, "I'm about to throw a hairball" cough. At least Barry believes I'm past contagion and is abandoning the futon tonight.
The grading: I'm working my way through the final projects from my last two classes and some of them are amazing. Unfortunately, I can't tell by looking at a couple of the others that the students even took the course I teach. In my experience, this means they've spent the semester buying completed assignments online or copying from friends, and when they finally had to produce original work - surprise! - they hadn't learned enough to do so. Discouraging. Pause to beat head against wall.
The dancing: We have one final dinner dance tonight to wrap up the Valentine's Day celebrations. I'm always leery about dinner dances: if we eat too much we're too sluggish to enjoy the dancing. At least I've learned to wear dark colors in case I accidentally flip part of the entree into my lap.
Family: Today is my mother's birthday. My sister and I are taking her and Dad out to dinner this weekend to celebrate. I offered to make the cake. I only hope everyone will be willing to eat it after realizing that I have hairballs.
"My dear doctor, I am surprised to hear you say that I am coughing very badly, as I have been practising all night." ~John Philpot Curran
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