You know what that means — I get to spend the whole day catching up on grading and prep work for upcoming labs.
I scarcely know what “day off” means anymore. Somebody will have to explain it to me someday, but there’s no point now. Maybe when I reach that mythical state of retired, if ever that happens.
Oh! I did have a weird dream last night, that I had a massive abdominal tumor that surgeons cut out of me, and they proudly showed it to me when I was lying there on the operating table (of course I was wide awake and watching the procedure). It was marbled with fatty tissue and had tufts of blonde hair sprouting sparsely all over it, with a little knot of teeth at one end. They stabbed it with biopsy needles a bunch of times, sliced it open to show me all the pus inside, and then threw it into an incinerator. I said, “We have to name it Donald.” Then I woke up.
It was a very happy dream. Prophetic symbolism, you think?