Yesterday was an insanely long and exhausting day.  I found out I was going to be the principal for the day when I woke up and checked my email at six o’clock in the morning, then seriously considered deliberately breaking a leg so that I wouldn’t have to go in.

After work, I went to my in-laws’ place, we had my FIL’s birthday dinner, then I borrowed his van, drove to our house (on the other side of town), put half a bed into it, drove to my parents’ house, dropped it off, drove back, picked up the other half of the bed, drove back to my parents’ house, dropped that off, then went back to my in-laws’ place, gave my FIL his van back, then drove all the way back to my own house.  9:00 PM by the time I finally actually got home.

My wife, who I had warned not to ask me about my day around her parents, was finally allowed to ask me about my day.

I asked her to be absolutely sure that she wanted to know.

She said she did.

And I ranted for an hour and a half.

I would very badly like to share this story with you, but I suspect it would be a 5000-word post, and I’m not sure how well I can nutshell it.  Plus, I’m at OtherJob, and while it’s cold and rainy I feel like I ought to at least make a pretense at actually working.

And, God, is this going to take a long time to type out.  It’ll be hilarious if I do it right– because it didn’t happen to you— but I don’t know that I have the stamina right now, because today wasn’t exactly short either.

Buy a copy of Skylights to encourage me, is what I’m saying.