You've possibly noticed that after my little burst of multiple blogs a week or so back, I've dropped back into one-post-per-week again. This gives you an indication of the kind of week I've had; crazy.
I'm loving my classes this semester and am having a ball teaching a lot of new material, but by God I'm exhausted. I've been working pretty long days, just to keep on top of things. Generally out of the house before 8.00, not back again until well after 5.30.
Luckily, though, sometimes the universe comes to the party.
On Tuesday night, I was freaking out. I had two lectures to deliver on Wednesday and, despite spending a solid chunk of Monday's public holiday in at the office, still hadn't managed to finish either of them. Both were on topics close to my heart; the importance of editing, and the minefield of issues relating to Indigenous portrayal in children's and young adult literature - and so I wanted to to a good job of both. But, by Tuesday night, neither was close to done. So I worked on them until about 9.30, then packed Toby's daycare bag for the following morning, made his lunch, laid out his clothes and mine and got completely organised so that, come wednesday morning, Toby and I could hit the ground running (he's in daycare at my uni, so when I go to work, he goes to work...) and I could be in the office at the first available moment.
And wednesday morning went like clockwork: up, showered, dressed, baby up, both of us fed, coffee made and consumed, out of the house by 7.40, and first through the door at the daycare, right on the tick of 8.00am. My office is two minutes from daycare. All was looking good.
Except that, for the first time ever, the lovely lady in charge of the toddler's room missed her bus.
Which meant that there was nobody there to look after Toby, yet. Just me and him, and a quiet, empty daycare centre.
So we sat on the couch and read a book. Then we sat on the floor and played with some toys for a bit. Then I tickled him. Then he tried to tickle me. And then, about fifteen minutes later, and apologising profusely, the lady in charge arrived to find us both rolling around on the cushions, giggling.
She really didn't need to apologise. Not at all. It was the best fifteen minutes of my day. And when I got to my office, I was happy and relaxed, cheerful even. I got both lectures knocked over, and even had time to get a coffee before delivering the first of them. And I got a few precious, stolen moments to start my day.
So, to whichever deity or force of nature decided to make that bus run early on wednesday, thanks. I needed it.