orichalcum

Our close family friend Carol, mother of my flower girl, Gemma, gave birth to a new baby girl a few days ago, and both mother and baby are just fine. I had been getting increasingly worried, because Carol's 46, and she was two weeks overdue, but, as it turns out, she simply had a rather reluctant baby, leading ultimately to a C-section. I go over Monday to visit.


I feel like I am unable this week to maintain a good mood for more than about six hours, despite lots of great things happening. Like yesterday, where I finally resolved a payroll issue with the bank, and got $1400 in pay from last fall, which was great, although great in that sort of "I finally crossed that item off my to-do list which has been sitting there for the last seven months and making me feel like a moron" kinda way. And then I went shopping, and found the new branch of Mangia, a gorgeous cafe which delivers, and bought a graduation present for the Lynnzer torte, and went to Victoria's Secret and discovered I had lost weight and thus saved money. So this was all good. And then I came home, and talked to my dad, and there are issues between my dad and brother, and I have the general sense that my dad is making a bunch of somewhat dubious decisions, but also that he isn't listening to my advice. It is somewhat frustrating to be an adult - when I was younger, I assumed that my parents knew what they were doing and would make all the right decisions. So then I was brooding and upset, and Adam came home, and helpfully pointed out all the _other_ ways in which my family was making bad decisions, and we worried about Carol.

But I have a new pseudo-niece, and this is wonderful. It is odd that Carol, who is 18 years older than I am, and 9 years older than my brother, and my brother, and I will likely all have kids within a few years of each other, but hey, hooray for modern technology.

I also had a really, really, traumatic and horrible nightmare in which I was teaching the first day of a class, and halfway through, all my students got up and walked out of the classroom, because they said it was too easy and irrelevant. Oddly, the class was being held on the upper floors of the home of fajitasfather and fajitasmother, who had decided to turn their house into annex space for a local college. So I did find minor comfort at some point during the dream petting fajitasdog, but still. Bad dream. Almost undoubtedly stemming from worries about dropping attendance in my sections, and the professor coming to evaluate on Tuesday.