January 14: Reality Sets In

I'm watching The Antiques Roadshow with my daughter right now.  It's a little past 8 p.m., and my son has been in bed for about an hour.  I'm looking at the clock on the wall, thinking, "I'm going to dragging my ass out of bed about eight hours from now."  My Coke Zero is waiting in the fridge, and my clothes are laid out on the washer in the bathroom.  I can't fight the inevitable.

I will return to work tomorrow morning.  I will be tired.  I will be cranky.  When the alarm goes off at 4 a.m., I will groan, turn it off, and mutter, "You have got to be kidding me."  (Actually, I will probably add a few more colorful words in there.  However, this blog is PG-rated.  Maybe PG-13 on a bad day.)  Then, I will crawl over my sleeping wife and slip back into my normal life of work-teach-work-home-bed.  Repeat until dead.

Reality sets in for Saint Marty.

I know how he feels