Sat in my cloffice and ate before my meeting, reflecting on the passage of time. It has foreclosed some options (staying inside on my couch all the time, going to the gym to use the elliptical) and opened up others (will I now run for time or will I run for distance), and when I bring a tool to bear on my new set of choices (Garmin GPS running watch) it’s pretty clear: Wherever we go from here is fine by me.

Why am I in a good mood at lunch time? By rights I ought to have been a grouchy disaster, but instead I ate cheerfully, listening to my headphones, tabbing my binder, world felt right. And I can fry tofu, which wasn’t true a year ago.

Things I liked: lunch was hot, the cat was in a pile, an embarrassment of good things to read, my new sweater the color of sriracha. Things I didn’t like: still waiting to feel better, my lungs are full of liquid, I’ve been so out of touch I don’t know anything about this weekend but Goldikova how have I been spending my time.

I ate the remnants of last night’s dinner while printing documents for my Middle States Educational Effectiveness OA Chapter 1B Working Group meeting at 12:30 and listening to this song on repeat. If it wasn’t for rock music I’d feel like a robot.

Why is it ten thousand degrees in my cloffice? Will the temperature drop with projected snows on Saturday? Why are so many people glomming onto RefWorks this semester, more than I have ever seen before in my time here? Why didn’t I take twenty minutes to cook some more rice? Why did I live for more than three decades without sriracha in my house?

I ate my reheated dish at like 11:30 because I had to catch a noon train to Hicksville, the town that has time for you, for a meeting square in the shank of the day. So I guess you could call that brunch?

It was as good this afternoon as it was last night, a dish of hot food on the couch with an episode of Downton Abbey, the cat draped over the arm of the couch, sound of rain.

I’m sitting here on the couch in this giant cardigan sweater I bought in Iceland, taking its turn in weekend rotation with the state parks sweatshirt I wore all last night into this morning. I’ve been waiting weeks and weeks to wear these things, beating in my dresser drawers against the heat, finally here I am, eating a bowl of leftovers in my Icelandic cardigan sweater, reading M.’s chapter draft, listening to somebody out in the courtyard spraying a grill or something clean with a hose, probably for the last time this season.

You know what part of my job I actually take really seriously? Shushing. It’s not like there are a zillion places in Brooklyn where commuter students can study in silence. This is–or could be–one of them. So I did a bunch of shushing on my way back to my cloffice, reheated dish in hand.

A reheated dish of last night’s leftovers swallowed while juggling a thousand calendars. Just a long long day, almost purely clerical.