Tail wagging

Two days ago my boss told me that the reason I was having success establishing working relationships with the (notoriously standoffish) local schools is that I am, and I quote, "like a puppy, so eager to please." Chew on that for awhile. My first reaction was to be all "That's offensive! I'm a skilled professional and am the best at what I do!" And then I remembered that I haven't slept in four months and that there is a new coffee machine in the breakroom that makes little individual servings of fancy coffee and you can pick whatever flavor you want and it's ready in seconds -- SECONDS, I tell you -- and that one of the available flavors is hazelnut and one is a Green Mountain Coffee variety called "Dark Magic," and so I bypassed indignation and settled instead for a shrug and a "woof."

One morning last week I was putting that evening's dinner in the slow-cooker and I looked down and realized that I was actually putting it in the slow-cooker. As in, not in the stoneware insert that is meant to hold the food but in the metal heating device itself. Which has a hole in the bottom. The dinner was chili.

This morning I drove Cletus and Newt to preschool. Which would be a perfectly fine thing to do, were it not for the fact that A) Cletus doesn't go to preschool on Thursdays, and B) Newt doesn't go to preschool at all.

To be continued, I'm sure.