I had written about 6 paragraphs of a post, and then realized it was going nowhere. Usually, this would not stop me from foisting my blab upon you. But, for some reason, I just deleted the whole post.
I was up until after 3:00 am recording and editing my most recent podcast episode, goofing around to produce a short audio feedback/promo bit that I am reeeeeeeeallly hoping to get played on DSC, rubbing the back of my very sick 4 year old, and cleaning up puke. You know how you feel better right after you throw up, and use that window to nibble on saltines? My son didn't want saltines, but we wouldn't let him eat anything else. So, while we were in the other room, he took advantage of that opportunity to sneak into the kitchen, hide in a cabinet, and eat many bananas. My carpet may never be the same again. I couldn't get in for my much needed downtime this weekend, because the retreat at the convent was filled by the time I called. I have been a cranky turd all day long, with a headache to boot. There's really not much more to blog about, at this point.
Maybe, we'll take a day trip to Charleston this weekend. Yeah, that would be nice. Now to try to convince the hubster...
Want to cheer me up? Add yourself to my frappr map (see sidebar), and when I come into the office in the morning and open up my email, I'll feel like the belle of the ball. Maybe. But it's worth a shot.
In other news, while teaching a unit on Baroque music to 1st and 2nd graders yesterday, one of the boys asked me, "When did Bach die, again?" "1750," I responded. "Oh yeah," he said. "I think that's when my dad was born."
Thirty-somethings-- we're getting old.
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