I’m tired, not wanting to do anything with class tonight though knowing me I know that’ll change, as I’ll get all energetic and fiery and passionate and love teaching at the JC, and want to do more of it an…. STOP. It’s St. Patrick’s Day. Have some wine. Seriously, pour some, I tell myself. No, too early. Wait 29 minutes till the time delivers 4:00.
Write an EOD today. Start a new practice and maintained habit, I tell myself. For the AE story, and other projects going forward. ME, being one of those projects. Mike Madigan, a business of sorts. One sort, himself. ME.
I ask Emma what she’s doing and she say “Nothing Dada…” in that tired Emma voice complexion. She does have a demanding schedule. Waking before 7, being in school till 1:30 off and on, then on Tuesday and Thursday having that little CrossFit class with her big brother, and now t-ball on top of that both those days, or maybe just Tuesday…. Who am I to complain about ANYTHING. EVER. These kids have a schedule and production compass that I could never touch.
Alerts sounding on AE laptop. Might check, later. Might.