aka, "The High Stress Cost of a Retreat"
So, I'm sitting in the family's favorite restauraunt, Panera. Gotta love free Internet access within walking distance of the Saturn of Danvers. To pay for my free access, I've had two cups of coffee and spinach egg souflee. (After I spend all day drinking coffee at Panera's, I hope to pick up my Saturn across the street and drive to Great Harvest coffee shop for an afternoon meeting with an alum. This is me, jittery about the promise of jitteriness.)
Last night I drove deep into the woods in Essex, Mass, to join administrators, department chairs, and new faculty for a "Clam Bake" social shindig. (Shindig? Is that the word? Digging for clams up to the shins...) I had the chicken.
My car's muffler broke on the ridiculously hole-y dirt/rock roads one had to traverse in order to reach the lovely (mosquito-infested), peaceful setting of the New Faculty Retreat.
So, this morning I scrapped my eat-oatmeal-work-out-shower-and-go-to-the-office plans and retreated to the mall first thing to get my car fixed and try to salvage the day sending work emails from Panera. (I'm on hold with Gordon Tech people as we speak, trying to find out why my Very Important email to majors keeps bouncing.)
P.s. I just got an email from a colleague who (after addressing the Very Important planning stuff I'd asked her about) said it was nice to see me smiling last night. I guess that was before the sound of car rattling sent me digging for what reserve funds remain after the Summer of Veterinarian Bills. Also, the reference to me smiling is notably in lieu of any acknowledgment of the fact that I cut my own hair (repeatedly) Sunday night.