Duende

One of the things I miss most about being a kid is that when you feel sick, someone calls the doctor for you, makes an appointment, takes you there, and fights to make it clear to the doctor that he needs to pay attention to your ailment. When you’re a grown up, you have to do all of that yourself while you’re hurt and feeling out of it, and meanwhile you have all this work piling up that needs to get done.

So this week I’ve seen one doctor for one ailment, scheduled another doctor a different problem, bailed out my rowboat at work as fast as I can to keep it from filling brimful, started my Passover cleaning and started to get everything together for being out of town next week. The goal is to leave guilt-free on Friday for vacation (which I’ll spend helping my mom do HER Passover cleaning, re-learning Hebrew, and applying to grad schools and maybe writing, but it’s still an improvement over work). If I can just push myself to the limit until then without breaking, then when I do break I’ll be home where mom can spoil me rotten, draw me a candle-lit bath, beat me in Scrabble, feed me comfort food.

The piles on my desk and table are currently about six inches deep. My goal is to see wood by Friday, which will mean all my projects are in the mail and someone else’s problem for the week I’m away. To that end, over the past three days I’ve been doing the impossible at work, getting a bunch of massive projects off my desk while the usual calls and crises keep pouring in, working as late into the night as I possibly can before my brain shuts down, taking work home to do over breakfast, etc.

And miles to go before I sleep.

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