The dust bunnies are growing in size and number, and are discussing a coup. The wood stove has issues with its chimney and I haven't dusted anything in weeks. The filing cabinet is empty, but there are papers spread all over the dining room floor, and the dishes in the sink are . . . unpleasant to contemplate.
However, my bed is made, and the laundry is taking care of itself, thanks to the wonders of automation.
Therefore, like the good little logician that I am, I must conclude that we are less than three weeks from the end of the semester.
Next week, the housekeeping blight will have spread further.
Meanwhile, I feel as if vital parts of my brain have left for the coast. I can't find essential documents the Ethics professor handed us in class last week. And I keep thinking about mortality tables and the expected value of insurance policies. These are all symptoms of having to take the Algebra final at 1 this afternoon.
Prayer appears to be needed, since I can't figure out how to solve a whole group of problems. I swear I was in class and watched the professor solve a bunch of these, and even solved some in class myself, but that series of problems is now a complete mystery.
I am strangely calm, though. As one friend keeps telling me, all I have to do is pass.
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