I never really considered myself the type of person who like obsessed over the weekend all week long; in fact, I thought it was a little silly seeing as we should enjoy all 7 days of the week, but since this semester started I find myself fantasizing about the weekend all week long! I think it is partly because Friday is the only day of the week that I get home in the afternoon (instead of the evening), and I love having two whole days that we can just be together and hole up in our apartment. Exciting life, I know!
Yesterday the department that I work for on campus had a huge event going on, and I spent most of the day helping with that, and didn't get done until 9. I want to write more about my new job, since I am really starting to love it and the ladies that I work with, but that is a post in and of itself. Suffice it to say, I didn't get to bed until pretty late, and I had kind of a hard time sleeping, which is quite rare. I woke up at 5 am, and I decided at about 5:30 that I should just get up and go run before school, since I couldn't sleep anyway. After a spoonful of peanut butter I drove to the Fieldhouse and ran 3 miles, where I witnessed maybe the grossest thing ever: a kid running on the track ahead of me stopped projected a huge snot rocket into the trash can. In broad view of everyone on the track. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? It was so gross, I almost lost my peanut butter. They have bathroom stalls and tissue for that sort of thing, guy.
After I recovered from that disgusting display I went up to the weight room to do the Elliptical for the rest of the time since I figured my joint could use a rest. There, the following two embarrassing things happened:
1. I got on a broken elliptical, complete with giant "out of order". I didn't notice until the girl next to me had a very loud conversation with the guy next to her about whether or not to tell me that it was broken (and I still didn't clue in that she was talking about me). I mumbled something about feeling dumb, and got on the one next to it.
2. There, my stride got too long and I started bonking into this giant metal fan that was behind my machine. I was too involved in my Black Eyed Peas to notice, but once everyone in the gym was craning around wondering where the giant metallic racket was coming from, I finally noticed the huge fan flailing behind me. Needless to say, they were glad to see me go.
Work was busy again this morning (I got second breakfast there, it was awesome. Of all second meals, second breakfast is the best), and school pretty uneventful. I have a break from 12-1 and I decided to call home and talk to mi madre. Much to my surprise, this little Eskimo girl answered:
Except, she is not this little anymore. It used to be that when I called home and Tess answered, it would be a five minute conversation where I talked in my little kid voice and asked her about which friends she was playing with. Lately though, it has been so fun to talk to her and I have been astonished at how she is not a tiny little girl anymore. It's like talking to a grown up. We talked about Young Womens, babysitting (she babysits?!), Dickens' Great Expectations (which she told me was written serially for British newspapers. I didn't know this until college), the lack of good story writers nowadays, and our sister Anne's love life. I hung up 40 minutes later, missing my little baby sis but excited for all of the fun years that lay ahead with her! And also, now I have someone else to entertain me on the phone! Anne and Grace stink at this, by the way.
l-r: good on the phone, bad on the phone, bad on the phone, good on the phone.