But who's counting.

Still have drafts to read, assignments to grade, comments to bestow, consultations to hold, but today I made waffles for breakfast, which we lingered over; picked up eggs and kale and apples from Chad; browsed Sophia's Christmas fundraiser boutique (for a worthy cause); admired the Spiderman detachable arms (can't possibly explain this) applied to another action figure by Deacon; shopped for Christmas presents for the Scotlands (denied!); and bought delectable assorted groceries and flowers. And talked to the oven repair guy (news: not good). And saw Hugo. Which we loved.

With the Folio reading over with, I feel a small window of not-panicking. All last week my lower back was aching; two nights I could barely sleep; I felt, sometimes, like I was only barely keeping it together. No more. Thursday night I slept the sleep of the blessed. And Friday, even with multiple consultations, a short presentation, a meeting, and appointments to help three students bind books, I felt released. Free.

Obviously, the grading/consulting/commenting regime reimposes itself, like, tomorrow. But I am also going to take a long walk and I am going to remember to breathe the December air. I will cook something delicious, maybe some things. And on Monday I am getting a Christmas tree. The end.