I thought I would do some work today, but guess what? I didn't feel like it, because the night before, with our visitors (brother, sister-in-law, nephew), we stayed up watching the Jazz finally put away the Rockets, then talking until 1 about everything under the sun. Then we all got up a little before six to see them off. Back to bed, up at ten (!) and then, lo! there was an all-day-long headache to keep me company while I read the paper, drank tea, ate cereal, talked to the Scotlands, the daughter in Boston, and make-up artist daughter.
So today my productivity has consisted of thinking about the unsatisfactory state of the NBA playoffs, with the exception of the Jazz being up 3-1, taking a little nap, buying some laundry detergent, eating some leftover salad. Taking Bruiser to the dog park, where, since it's spring and lighter longer, there were too many dogs. I talked to all of my kids except the missionary and the soccer coach, and we received visitors (running son's friends). I pressed leftover cake upon them, since we had a bunch.
I think it's the almost-finished quality of things right now--tomorrow, all my students' work will be posted, and the grading starts. I have one (1) more meeting in the academic year. What I would most like to be doing is cleaning my house, as prosaic as that may seem, but I didn't because (a) headache, and (b) there was all that work to be done, which (c) I did none of. And now, I am complaining. Hello, end of the semester, my old friend-like-a-recurring-condition. Get the hell away from me and don't come back for sixteen months.