Winding Down After Much Running

All right! It's been quite a week and a half: three school-related functions (four if you count one that actually occurred during school hours), a sinus infection that pretended to be strep throat but then turned into a cold, and a cat that has turned ambivalent about eating canned food yet has the energy to bug me at 3 a.m. (and 4 a.m., and so on).

I was exhausted, so I am very much enjoying the two days I've had off from school.  I'm not completely caught up on everything (obviously), but it is good to feel as if I'm getting things done.  Oh, and I took a personal day Monday (we're into use-it-or-lose-it time) so I will be rested up for the full-speed dash to the end of the school year.

Heading to bed now because I have to get up for my side-librarian-gig this weekend, but let me leave you with two things that really had me scratching my head this week:

1. Paul McCartney attacked by grasshoppers.  I'll be the first to admit that while I respect him as a musician, I think he's a bit of a snotty jerk--so I did find this amusing.  Now, I know he has a reputation as an animal lover, but don't you think he was a little grossed out, at least at first?

2. Have I mentioned my septuagenarian neighbor wants to fix me up with her handyman?  I don't think I have before.  It was one of those cases of "I wasn't flirting" but I was being nice to someone who was doing good things for my senior neighbor.  (I might have thought he was her nephew or something, so that might have made me feel friendlier than usual.)  I tried to demur. I asked her how old he was; she didn't know.  She just knows he has a full-time job at one of those large home improvement stores.  I honestly have zero idea if we have anything in common other than knowing her!

Of course, she has my phone number and gave it to him.  She keeps telling me he's going to call.  I think he's not going to call because he thinks he has to take me to dinner.  (I say let's do coffee or one beer and then see if dinner on another day's a good idea.)

So then yesterday evening, as I'm getting in from the gym, she sees me because she's sitting outside with a friend.  Proceeds to tell me, "Oh, [Handyman] was here a little while ago doing work for me--turns out he'd had a rip in the back of his pants all day and no one at work told him. So he was in a hurry to get out of here before [neighbor's friend] came over."

Really? A guy wouldn't feel, y'know, a draft of some sort? 

And she wants to fix me up with him?