I did nothing that resembled work this weekend. On Thursday night, after a long, long week, I came home and drank a bourbon. On Friday, we went to a show. We ate cheeseburgers and made fun of silly little goth kids teaching each other to smoke cigarettes and clinked our cans of cold beer. On Saturday, we slept late and opened the windows and looked at new vinyl records. On Sunday, I ate fresh bread and sat outside and fixed up my résumé and took a long walk with the dog, and then as the sky clouded over we sat outside with a friend and personified the country of Sweden as a jerk.
Then, this morning: back to the office. But the coffee was hot, and the conferences went smoothly enough, and the first round of students are working, and I came home and spray-painted all the terra cotta pots matte gray and filled them with seeds.
In three weeks, I will be done on this campus. I feel all sorts of ways about that, but right now, I will simply be glad to be finished with any work for a little while, and sit, and watch the seeds come up.
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