Calgon

Oh, Lord. I am having one of those mornings.

Dave and I had some people from the music department over for dinner last night, and I ran two loads of dishes through the dishwasher last night and there was a third load still waiting for me when I got up at 6 a.m. The counters had to be wiped down. The wine glasses had to be washed by hand.

And I had to walk the dog, who has developed an annoying habit of running out the front door with one of her chew toys, and running up the stairs, and then refusing to come down when the elevator arrives. She just stands at the top of the stairwell wagging her tail, her chew toy in her mouth. So I had to leave the elevator and go grab her by the scruff of the neck, and by the time I got back to the elevator it had descended to the ground floor without us (which it does automatically) and I had to call it back. Meanwhile I scolded the heck out of the dog.

I had to launch the laundry, to get the placemats washed, and that will be followed by a load of daily stuff and kitchen towels. Now, more than an hour after I got up, I'm finally having my coffee.

I have to do my weekly substitute reports later this morning, and the dog will need another longer walk.

And finally, this afternoon is the big high school concert, involving the chorus and band and orchestra at the school where we work, which will kill a couple of hours. Our neighbors Chris and Linda are tagging along. And then there's another work dinner, which I may or may not attend, depending on how I feel. Because right now, Calgon, take me away!

I know, I know. I just went to Paris for the day. I really have no right to be cranky. But crankiness is one of those things that comes on its own, unbidden, and can't be banished at will. The coffee is helping.

(Photo: The street outside our apartment, at sunrise one day last week.)