Well, lo and behold, it seems to be Monday all over again. How did that happen? I mean, I could swear it was just Monday last week.
This particular Monday comes on the heels of an all-day, 17-hour grading marathon, which you will have heard me bitching about yesterday if you were anywhere near Twitter. I will refrain from describing the agony in detail and will restrict myself to reiterating this, the most salient point: SEVENTEEN HOURS.
All righty then. Let’s move on.
After two hours of sleep, I headed to school in the midst of a raging storm of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning. It was so nasty outside that every pedestrian I passed appeared to be wrestling his umbrella to the death, hanging on with desperation as it tried to turn itself inside out and eviscerate him. Driving down a lonely campus street, I saw one umbrella, freed from its human captor, go cartwheeling down the block and fly across the street in front of my car where it was caught by a fleet and dexterous passer by.
I meandered my way through the rest of the day, nourishing detailed fantasies of curling up with the dog for an afternoon sleep. The dog, of course, probably spent the entire day in his blanket cave, dreaming of that magical land where there is a neverending supply of dropped crumbs on the floor.
The following photograph on my iPhone, which sparked this pathetic fantasy, proved to be pure torture for my sleep-deprived mind. Let me caution you, reader: looking at this photograph will produce strong naptime cuddling urges, so please proceed only if you are within safe proximity to a bed, chaise longue, divan, couch, or other cozy horizontal surface. Blankets and puppy are also recommended.
I warned you.
I’m heading off for a spot of tea with Mrs. Nappington, and Reader, may I suggest you do the same?