Most Definitely, with My Middle-Aged Hairy Man Boobs, This Might As Well Be Me. I'm in Overdrive, Convinced I Can Get It All Done.

I don't get summers off. In fact, I've gone 13 years at Fairfield University with no time off, but Christmas Day. I did pack Chitunga up for a 4-day rendezvous to Key West, but we both brought our laptops to get work done. It's in our nature, and it is the nature of our work. I need weekends, holidays, and evenings to catch up on the job I'm actually hired to do.

That is why I took advantage of a very gray day (as I will today, too). I put forward an agenda, began typing, and didn't stop until I was too exhausted to type any more. I need the mashed potatoes to sculpt over the next two months when I have a few seconds to play with my food. There's no way to accomplish the job given to me, but I can make it appear as if it is possible by giving up any semblance of vacation for free time. The eye is on the prize and I know what I have to achieve.

I did take a few minutes to get a post-baby shower dinner brought to me from Stamford. It was delicious and I am thankful.

Otherwise, I was dedicated to one of several full-time jobs trying to put forward to others that I'm doing what I'm supposed to (others who have away messages on their summer accounts because they have summers off).

But I do it all for teachers. And I do it all for kids. I simply love the National Writing Project and cherish excellence that is emancipated by the way our institutions own us. 

Happy Sunday. I'll be typing again today, but I'll also be going to BJs and buying 25 boxes of Goldfish crackers and pretzels. 

This is the labor of love. We got this.