Today could be one of those days that I entertain a different line of work. It's registration day. I'll be done at 7 pm. Meanwhile, I sit in a large conference room, and students stream in for advisement and help with the on-line registration. After the third one fails to get registered correctly, I want to ask, "What's wrong with you? Can't you follow the directions on the screen?" And then I remember that I'm supposed to be living the gospel. That little angel perched over my right soldier is awfully full of himself and all self-righteous when he whispers, "Tsk. Tsk. What would Jesus do?"
The smarty-pants dressed in red and sporting the classy horns on his head doesn't miss a beat when he whispers that Jesus once had a little temper tantrum outside the Temple. I am tempted, which of course is his point.
I compromise. I continue to think some of these people are [insert adjective of your choice], but I smile and help them.
Meanwhile, the pollen count is over 5,000 (172 is considered high).
The air-conditioning in the registration hall is broken, so the giant fans are lulling me to sleep.
I have a few writing projects to complete over the course of the next couple of days, and I am physically exhausted (from what? since I can't express myself--perhaps it is from smiling and being helpful).
We are hoping for a shut-out at tonight's game. Samurai Sally needs to control her checking. It's refreshing, however, to see that she's not the one coming home with the bloody knuckles.
Meanwhile, Jonathan is helping to build the set for the musical, so he's the one bringing home the bloody knuckles.
And me? I pretended to know what I was doing and bought a bunch of material to make some costume accesories. Oh the things we sacrifice for our spawn.
I'm sporting a serious resemblance to Bill the Cat--I have three more hours to go....