Take Lip...run finger up and down...say bBlbllblllbbbb

Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are rough this semester. I feel like I go from 7 a.m. until 9 p.m. and get home just in time to repeat the next day. It's a funky groove to be in and I'm liking it, but crossing t's and dotting i's is tricky. I don't get to my emails until late and that is a job in itself.

My colleagues in Syracuse, Pennsylvania and Canada and I are putting together a proposal that is due Friday, too. Editing and revising is the nature of this beast and none of us have a lot of time to focus and so we do it piece-meal.

It's all good, though, because tonight I can pack and head to Syracuse on Friday for the U of L/Syracuse game. When I get home from work I have to look at my house and think, "Shoot, laundry." I don't need much, but do have to organize before I depart. When I was a boy, I always claimed I would have a maid. Dang, I'm one ugly maid and I have to keep up with my messiness. Not fun. But to get to laundry, all I need to do is finish a book, meet with one Principal, meet with Gear Up Directors, meet with English teachers, meet with a literacy specialist, return to campus, plan my class, teach my class, then drive home. It can be done. It must be done.