The Surreal Season of Cookies for Dinner

My Christmas season has become a bit surreal, as it often does.  Yesterday at work, there was holiday merriment with sweaters that played music and sweaters that were ugly and lots of food from Panera for a morning meeting and the promise of more with an Admissions department party.

Instead, I slipped away to see a friend in the hospital.  She's my age, and when I heard the news late Tuesday that she had suffered a collapsed lung, it sounded catastrophic to me. 

While it's not a great situation, it's not life threatening.  But she's in the hospital, and she's one of those high energy people who don't sit still for long.  Now she's forced to sit still.  I sat still with her for a bit.  I hope that she can go home soon.

I came back and had a cup of restorative tea.  Someone had brought a huge container of cookies that they'd gotten at a cookie swap.  I grabbed a few, and after tea, life got hectic, and I never actually had dinner.

It's the most wonderful time of the year . . . when we eat cookies for dinner!

I had a bit of cheese and wine as I watched the ABC comedies when I got home.  But that's not really dinner--more of a snack.

I know that I'm lucky.  I'm a woman in good health, so I can have the kind of day I had yesterday without doing damage.  I have reserves.

I may need those reserves today.  I start my work day with a student who has failed classes and thus will not graduate.  She claims she turned things in and will bring them this morning.  The teacher says that they were never in the drop box.  I have already had hours of hysterical crying from the student.  I understand why the dean is having her come in to meet with us, with work she claims she's done.  But part of me has lost all patience with these kinds of claims, especially when I have e-mails from the teachers that show that the student simply didn't do the work.

I am not sure how it will all turn out, and I've stayed up part of the night fretting about it.  I'm tired before the day begins.

Then it's on to my last class session, which should be easy with final presentations, and we finish the day with graduation.  This time, we must drive to the War Memorial Auditorium, which will add at least an hour to my day in terms of commuting.

Maybe I will grab another moment today to have restorative tea and cookies.  I am also bringing more substantial food with me.  I'm running on fumes, and it's time to think about some self-care.

Today will be the last of these kinds of exhausting days.  That idea, too, is restorative.