the lost weekend

If one accepts the premise that a successful day is one in which an individual (or couple) spends absolutely no time on the floor of the bathroom, then Steve's and my Thanksgiving was an Epic Failure. Indeed, if one gives oneself a point for every hour not spent on the bathroom floor, our collective score for the weekend would have been about negative sixteen. While on the one hand I pretty conclusively cracked the code to avoiding overindulging on our national holiday of gluttony (this is also a useful tool if you've ever struggled with your sincerity in begging for the end of days), on the other I desperately wish I could tell you that our misery was a direct result of overindulgence and gluttony. But it wasn't. I'm guessing the more likely suspect was e. coli or some other nasty, easily communicable infectious disease that effectively made the thought of turkey repugnant and severely limited my capacity for pie. Ultimately we payed it forward and left the microbes in Michigan in enough time to come home with a cooler full of leftovers, but we also returned with a rather empty feeling that was the duel result of our inability to ingest food and the fact that we were kind of cheated out of a relaxing vacation.

In other news I got a "job" for next semester. I say it's a "job" because all it really is is the local community college "paying" me to adjunct for them, but nevertheless, it is employment if one chooses to be truly technical about the whole thing. And as I've learned over the last year, with a degree like mine, beggars truly cannot be choosers. I am genuinely excited to get back to teaching, although I was really hoping my near or below minimum wage days were behind me. And that, I suppose, is all I will say about that.

Well I'm tired now. I may be over the worst of the illness, but it still doesn't take much. I think it might be time for a little snooze and a peanut butter cookie that Trader Joe's has cleverly disguised as a healthy whole grain snack bar.