Thank you for showing up to your appointments, all of you. It was an auspicious beginning to the one-on-ones--everyone who signed up for an appointment showed up, on time. I had the satisfaction of striking through each of your names, giving you the points, having the conversation. Win for everyone!
It's true that two of you didn't have your drafts ready. But I was in such a good mood that I gave you the show-up points on the promise that you would have your drafts posted, very soon. And I believed you! That's how good it is when everyone shows up!
It's possible that I may have been just a little giddy,
Dear one unspoken-for hour in the afternoon,
Today I pretty much kept you to myself. You were like finding a twenty in the pocket of a coat I hadn't worn in awhile: unplanned for, a very happy surprise. If, in fact, I used you for writing my travel proposal and finessing the Publication Center Workshop Schedule again and inputting the curriculum proposal on a GD new form, well, the fact that you, one unspoken-for hour, were my secret made even these activities a little bit sweet. That is a little bit sad, I realize. But there it is.
I hope you see that my gratitude is both deep and sincere,
Dear second workout of the day,
Despite the fact that today, you took place in a desperately narrow window of time, between the last meeting of the day (along with a small amount of lingering to talk to my colleague) and the first of the online evening consultations, you were so choice. I said to my colleagues in that last meeting of the day that you, second workout of the day, might be the only thing keeping me sane. They looked a little dubious, I think (I might be over-reading this), but I'm sticking to it. Second workout, you are my ace in the hole.
I can't quit you,
Dear my Kitchen Aid mixer,
Finally, finally you had your debut in my kitchen, and you did not disappoint. But let me begin again. Today, my friend Dr. Write said that television was like a buffet, one that made her want things she hadn't previously wanted, like cake. And when I saw her later, in the Student Writing Center, she said, So, do you have any cake? And I did not, but this interchange set in motion a chain of desire that I did not fully recognize until I reached the very last of my online evening appointments, when I thought, So where IS the cake up in this joint? and lo! there was no cake up in this joint.
It was 9 p.m., and all my cake recipes seemed decidedly of the 'should have started this way earlier' persuasion. So I moved down the metonymic chain of baked goods to cookies. Here's where you, my Kitchen Aid mixer, came in.
I put cold butter and rocky brown sugar--I tried to break it up by hitting it violently in its bag against the counter, but rocky it remained--along with organic cane sugar in the mixing bowl and started the machine up. And within a minute the sugar and butter were beautifully combined, nary a pebble of brown sugar to be found.
I'm sold, that's all. Solid performance. And well done me for finally seeing reason and acquiring you.
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