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Today is the anniversary of the deaths of both Julius Caesar and of H.P. Lovecraft. This surely cannot be coincidence.
When I was a young man, my father confided to me how he finally realized he was middle-aged. "There is no morning," he said, "where something doesn't hurt when I wake up." Just so. It has gradually dawned on me that I am nine months from my fortieth birthday, and I cannot remember a morning when I woke up and something didn't hurt.
Yesterday there were 78 pieces of SPAM in my work e-mail account. They fell generally into three categories: hot stock tips, deals on software, and assorted medical means of helping out the hardware, so to speak. It occurs to me that I wasn't interested in any of it.
I spent several hours over the last few days beginning the transformation of a small room in the school from "piled high with junk we really need to have hauled away" to "computer lab and study hall". I was flabbergasted to learn that several teachers do not approve of this transformation, as they don't want to have to march their class up there to use the computers. As if I'm going to hold a gun to their heads and force them to use freely available resources.
We have a grant proposal due today. Aiiiee!
This morning on the bus, I discovered to my dismay that I'd somehow contrived to leave my breviary at home. Threw off my whole morning routine.
Two headlines on page 3 of my local paper: "FBI watched activists, say ACLU" and "Government still after Google data". On page 1 we have "Judge bars terror evidence" and "Young lungs earn woman top tuba seat". So for the front page we've got witness coaching and a tuba player; you've got to actually open the paper to learn that your civil rights are more theoretical than real. Oh, and the Iraqi War makes it to page 4.
Thesis: I'm feeling old and tired and helpless and not nearly eldrich enough.
Either that or I need a beer.
Edited to add: Upon further reflection, I could not remember having my breviary last night, either. I called the Pierce Transit lost and found. Sure enough, they've got it.
What the heck has happened to my brain? I suspect this is what they call "early onset dottiness". Harrumph.
When I was a young man, my father confided to me how he finally realized he was middle-aged. "There is no morning," he said, "where something doesn't hurt when I wake up." Just so. It has gradually dawned on me that I am nine months from my fortieth birthday, and I cannot remember a morning when I woke up and something didn't hurt.
Yesterday there were 78 pieces of SPAM in my work e-mail account. They fell generally into three categories: hot stock tips, deals on software, and assorted medical means of helping out the hardware, so to speak. It occurs to me that I wasn't interested in any of it.
I spent several hours over the last few days beginning the transformation of a small room in the school from "piled high with junk we really need to have hauled away" to "computer lab and study hall". I was flabbergasted to learn that several teachers do not approve of this transformation, as they don't want to have to march their class up there to use the computers. As if I'm going to hold a gun to their heads and force them to use freely available resources.
We have a grant proposal due today. Aiiiee!
This morning on the bus, I discovered to my dismay that I'd somehow contrived to leave my breviary at home. Threw off my whole morning routine.
Two headlines on page 3 of my local paper: "FBI watched activists, say ACLU" and "Government still after Google data". On page 1 we have "Judge bars terror evidence" and "Young lungs earn woman top tuba seat". So for the front page we've got witness coaching and a tuba player; you've got to actually open the paper to learn that your civil rights are more theoretical than real. Oh, and the Iraqi War makes it to page 4.
Thesis: I'm feeling old and tired and helpless and not nearly eldrich enough.
Either that or I need a beer.
Edited to add: Upon further reflection, I could not remember having my breviary last night, either. I called the Pierce Transit lost and found. Sure enough, they've got it.
What the heck has happened to my brain? I suspect this is what they call "early onset dottiness". Harrumph.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-15 04:40 pm (UTC)When she moved to another school, the way they dealt with that was with a mobile classroom - a trailer full of laptops that recharged when you plugged them in, and a wireless network with the base station on the trailer. Plug the base unit into a network point on the wall, and suddenly you have a networked classroom. Much more successful at getting the teachers involved.
Getting the kids involved was usually no work at all, comparatively.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-15 05:48 pm (UTC)Given limited funds (i.e. none) and space constraints, I thought this was a good solution. I'm liking the mobile lab concept, though. One grant application at a time!
gotta call you on this
Date: 2006-03-15 07:35 pm (UTC)i love you dearly, man, but you are woefully out of shape. i'm 43 and i probably would have had better luck carrying that tv. julio franco is 47 and will be on the opening day roster for the new york mets. he says he wants to play 'til he's 50 and experts suggest he could.
so it may not be getting old....