Starting tomorrow, nearly every hour of my days will be scheduled until December. Making a schedule (even breakfast and fun times are written in ink) is my compulsive attempt to get into school mode. Look for me in Beaumont on Sundays (the day of rest) and Mondays (the day of housework). I'll be at work a little bit on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and all day on Thursdays and Fridays. I'm hoping to catch two exercise classes on the same day. I expect to sleep well at night: I don't have time for naps. :)
I don't expect there to be a whole lot of new movie viewing going on this fall, so enjoy fresh movie reviews while they're available. Last week I saw Broken Flowers (starring Bill Murray and Jeffrey Wright) and Wedding Crashers (starring Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson), two very different approaches to relationship issues.
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Ah... scheduled fun. A distant memory. But schedules, now that is something I can talk about. Feeding schedules, burping, sleeping, pooping, peeing. Gurgling, cooing, whooping, squealing. Crying. Crying in a tone not unlike an oboe, flitting its tone in between the ceaseless televised noise in such a way that the world becomes small and brilliant and beautiful, so that I cry with him. Until he laughs.
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