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Thursday, December 1

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Tales from the Steppes


2005-12-05

1:26 p.m.
Monday, December 5

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.

-Rent

I am so tired and it is just Monday. Oh well. Nothing that will kill me. Yet. We'll see how I feel next Sunday night.

Tonight and tomorrow night are the technical rehearsal for the Nutcraker and then the fun really begins. Performances are Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, 3 on Saturday, and 2 on Sunday. Coincedentally, Saturday is also the EM's 11th birthday. I bought tickets for some of her friends to come see her dance and she will join us in the audience when she is done with her part of the production. Then we will have pizza between the shows with all of her ballet friends. I have not yet figured out how I am pulling off the logistics of driving her friends out and back but I am sure the idea fairy will come along. Of course, I have not even gotten the formal invitations together yet. I guess that is one thing I will work on while she is dancing tonight.

My tiredness is enhanced by the fact that the EM had a school project due today. This had to be done around rehearsals Friday night, Saturday until 9, and Sunday until 9. So she worked on it there and finished when she got home but it was very late at night, for her. When the EM finally went to bed, after having a meltdown over a spider that I refused to kill, I had to finish the work I had brought home.

My workload continues to grow as the fallout from the latest debacle continues to be felt. Policies are changing rapidly and new procedures are being added daily. Most of them are a good thing but the result is more work with no help for getting it done. And so it takes us longer to get the work done and we have more applicants upset at us.

And now comes snow. Normally I love snow and really enjoy a chance to perhaps slow down for a few minutes. But I have fieldwork that I must do and not being able to see the ground vegetation clearly is a problem. Finding the wetlands by stepping in them is not my idea of a good time. Not to mention highly inaccurate. And the snarling of the traffic, as I drive to Reston over and over again, qualifies as an absolute waste of time.

Before rehearsal yesterday, we went out as a family to cut down a Christmas tree. Now I always had a very idealistic image of how this scene plays out. No, my ideal family is not wearing matching sweaters and singing insipid songs. But it is also not forgetting it's gloves so it is alternately whining and singing "Happy Happy, Joy Joy", the Ren and Stimpy song, on the way out to get the tree. When the mongols were younger, they were much more cooperative about this sort of thing. They were not merely indulging my freakish whim that we make this a family outing. At least I cannot complain that they are ever anything less than themselves, as obnoxious as it might sometimes be.

Past Few Tales


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Thursday, October 26

Friday, October 20

Thursday, October 19

Wednesday, October 18


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