Yes, well. A bit of radio silence here lately. Understandably, I’m sure you’ll agree: I had to go back to work this week after three weeks off.
So of course, I haven’t slept well at all this week. Part of it was due to heading back to work, I know, and part of it is just what I do sometimes, being of the age I am. The other part of it was likely the let-down after my mother’s minor stroke and hospitalization, and the fact that my brother and sister-in-law were just in town to stay with Mom so I didn’t have to do anything for her for a few days. That would be time off for good behaviour, I guess. But it would be even better to sleep all night long. I’m hopeful that tonight’s the night.
Getting back into the swing of things at work has been difficult this week. I had left a lot of things unfinished the week before Spring Break, what with our three-day teachers’ job action and missing the rest of that week because of Mom. Normally I would have organized my piles o’ stuff and left myself notes so that I would know exactly what I was doing the minute I walked back into my classroom. But I wasn’t able to do that this time, and after three weeks of not working, I seemed to have forgotten everything. I couldn’t find stuff – and I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for anyway. I couldn’t track down kids that I needed to do reading tests with. People kept coming in and interrupting my train of thought. I kept getting distracted, even all by myself. I had computer issues and had to spend a fair amount of time with our IT guy trying to sort it out. It took me till about Thursday to really feel like I was accomplishing something – and now I’m feeling a bit guilty because I’m still not finished all my assessments and organization for the next term. (Uh – yeah, that would be this very term, the one that has already started. The one that I am apparently not ready for yet.)
The weather hasn’t been wonderful this week, either. Rain and wind. Repeated rain and wind. Rain and wind again. Typical spring weather around here, but it’s really not conducive to the well-being of my daffodils and tulips. The daffodils are already open but are being battered and blown about, while the tulips are trying valiantly to bud, but I think they’re too scared to open up now. Well, at least the temperature isn’t too bad: I’ve been able to take my winter gloves off. The down parka is staying on till probably May, though.
And then I got a phone call from the “system admin desk” at Passport Canada yesterday. Remember I had to renew my passport recently? Well, when I answered that phone call, my first thought was, “Holy crap! Am I being denied a passport? What the hell did I do – and why don’t I remember it?!” My second thought was, “It’s that horrible photo! It’s so bad that even Passport Canada won’t accept it!” Then I actually listened to what I was being told: some information on my renewal form didn’t match what they had on file for me, possibly because somebody typed it wrong. So could I fax them a copy of my long form birth certificate so that they could get the correct information? I did that this morning. I hope I did it right, because with my scrambled egg of a brain this week, it’s entirely possible that I faxed it to some podiatrist’s office in Hong Kong or somewhere.
And now for something completely different, Porsche Guy has bought himself another car. He had to: his beloved Porsche died on him this week. It was the rear end or the transmission or something – he told me, but apparently I’m not retaining a lot of information lately. He said he just has to get some parts and he can fix it himself – he’s been reading up on it because he knew that whatever it was, it was going to die on him sooner or later. (At which point I was thinking, “Have you ever heard of preventative maintenance?”)
So anyway, he’s bought himself …
… another Porsche. This one is pretty much the same model, but a few years newer and with a turbo-charger, so it’s even faster than his other Porsche.
Hmmmm. Let’s think about this: “his other Porsche”. PG now owns two Porsches. I actually know someone who owns two Porsches. Someone who is not a millionaire or a rock star or a famous actor. Someone who is not terribly rich, really. Someone who has a slight obsession with Porsches. But someone who has an extremely apt nickname, don’t you think?
I tell ya, I live in interesting times.