We’re still here. We’re buried under our last stacks of student papers, but we’re here.
The rest of this week will bring much grading, an inspection of our apartment by the 21-year-old daughter (turned manager) of the owner (for what, I do not know), and a visit from my mom.
Then sperm will arrive, and we’ll have grading conferences with our students early next week, and on Wednesday of next week school will be finished. We will inseminate. We will breathe. Later, in a month or so, we will look for new jobs (neither of us was assigned any classes for the spring semester). That, however, is not something I can even begin entertaining tonight, not even a little. Tonight, we’ll be lucky to have a hot meal (the time for such a thing, that is).
I’m just going to look forward to breathing.
ETA: I needed to clarify that we can still afford to feed ourselves. All too well, in fact.
