It’s like the juggling act. I’ve described it here. But this time, I’m feeling rather indifferent about the whole picture, kind of a teenage “whatever” mood.
Amigo isn’t doing well in school, and yes, I’m worried. I’m not sure which route to take right now. And since I don’t know which way to turn, I’ll just pull over to the side and have coffee at the little diner on the corner until I figure out what to do.
I’ll know more about “Mort”, as my friends now call it, after tomorrow’s appointment with the specialist. I predict surgery. I’ll ask all of the questions about healing time and how-soon-do-I-need-it, and then we’ll schedule. After that’s in place, I’ll deal with my long-term substitute and my class. I’ve done this before, about eight years ago, and I know the basics. My co-workers are a lot stronger now than they were eight years ago. My class will be in good hands. I haven’t figured out my remaining accrued sick leave; I guess I’d better calculate that before I see the doc.
La Petite is doing well. Her new bug-eyed fish is enjoying the small aquarium on her dorm room desk. She named him Lenny Briscoe.
And last, but not least, I am fighting off a cold. This, I can handle. I will take some Airborne in a few minutes, after I finish a little orange-spice tea in my Ducks in a Row mug. I don’t really have all my ducks in a row, but I like to pretend. At least that way I can sleep at night.