Getting back into the swing of schoolwork is proving harder than I anticipated. I couldn't convince myself to do any homework yesterday, so I had to spend all day on it today. It took me at least four hours to run through it all, and that didn't count coming up with my "original thought" for the online portion of the class. One would think, after nearly 900 consecutive days of writing essays that a paragraph or two about the specialization of real estate would be ridiculously easy. Not so much tonight. Maybe I was tired, maybe I was sore because I had been lying on the floor for an hour while I finished my chapter quizzes. I could barely think my way through it. The good news is that it's now done, and I have read all my required lessons for tomorrow, as dry as some of them were.
I'm sitting in the basement, waiting for the riots to begin. The last text I had from Mr S-P was that he had reached the outskirts of Boulder. The dogs are in the garage, and Zoe is around here somewhere, waiting for papa. As soon as they hear him, all hell is going to break loose. But I'm good with that. It has been too freakishly quiet around here, when the dogs weren't barking at air.
I had helpers while I cleaned, particularly the ones who attacked the cover monsters when I remade the bed. And there is the fat one who took it upon herself to push all the junk from the table back on the floor every time I tried to sort it into piles. My job two weeks ago was to make great strides in organizing and completing the move. I don't know how I forgot that there would be assault teams working tirelessly against all of my efforts. I hope the man can see through the debris to the progress beneath.
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