The cat's wake last night was a complete success. I'm sure he's looking down on us fondly right now, thinking how much he misses us. Barring that, he's probably waiting for someone to change his litterbox again.

As for me, another broken up week--I've got a conference to go to Tuesday, which should alter my routine nicely. I've been a vegetable all weekend, and not by choice either. My brain is squeezing thoughts through it one at a time, painfully and quite slowly. It took me over three hours to do one lousy stack of essay exams, and just the memory of that grueling endeavor is keeping me away from the remaining stack. I did do some planning for tomorrow, though--I looked up a bunch of alchemists mentioned at the beginning of Frankenstein to try and get some philosophical background into the class discussion. But most likely it won't work worth a shit.

Layout starts Wednesday, too, and the assistant advisor isn't back from surgery yet. That should be a good issue to tackle: "Listen, Ms. B., I know they just removed your lower spleen, but I need someone to proofread Page One. So quit lying around, slacker. Earn your $8.50 an hour, or whatever we're getting for all this."

At least there's a three-day weekend next week. That's good.

And a four-day weekend (of sorts) the week after that. That's even better.

Also, barring some unforeseen event, I should hear from U of I by then, which means I'll know whether or not to drown myself in alcohol out of self-pity or arrogant victory. I guess it all comes out the same in the end either way.