A quick turnaround

So for those of who started to wonder if I had fallen off the face of the earth, quit blogging altogether, or both; don't worry, I'm still here. I'm currently sitting in our office, with a pile of laundry that needs folded, and a gigantic suitcase that is half-packed with odds and ends sitting on the floor. Technically, I don't really have time to blog, or check my email, or sit still, for that matter, but I really couldn't resist.

Tonight I'm in one of those wonderful situations that only I seem to be able to put myself in. They're never entirely my fault, but, and this one is no different, I always manage to refuse to compromise so spectactularly that although I end up getting everything I want, I do end up having to, oh, go without sleep, or do the work of two days in one, or, as is the case today, come home from one trip and leave for another in about 18 hours.

You see, this year, like last, our university adopted a more "extended summer term", one which "better enables both students and professors to work though the required material", i.e., it decided to lengthen our summer term, and shorten the break between summer and fall semester to two weeks. Strangely, I'm the one of the few who balked at the idea of cutting our previous month break in half. Everyone else really took to the idea of not having to cram 16-weeks worth of material into six. But not me. I'd rather bust my butt for six weeks and have four off, then have to deal with darling students for two additional weeks, only to get less time off afterwards.

But anyway, the powers that be prevailed, and so this year we were once again stuck with only two weeks between summer and fall terms. Due to some unfortunate race planning on our part, some unfortunate scholastic aptitude issues on Ozzie's part (read: a two-week crash course in math), and some other scheduling issues involving both my and husband-dear's family, we were not able to plan our family getaway, or my trip to the Netherlands until these two weeks.

Two weeks, two trips. To quote my boys, Are you feeling it yet, Mr. Crabbs?

Indeed, last week, my first week off, was spent cavorting in the mountains of north Georgia. We came back a few hours ago, sunburned, sleepy, full of tales about white water, snakes, and toads, and with enough dirty laundry to last us a week. And guess where I'm heading at around 11 tomorrow morning? Right, the same place anyone else would go after a week filled with tubing, swimming, mountainbiking, running, hiking, and shopping: the Atlanta airport.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm very much forward to seeing my family. Especially while they're opening the million presents I bought them (apparently, I had forgotten I had bought some things already, so I went out and bought more, and whichever customs official opens my suitcase is going to think I am about to open an "All things American" store). Seriously, I do want to see them. I just wish I had a little more than 18 hours to get myself together. I mean, people, I don't even have a list! I am packing without a list. And for those of you who know me, that is just not me.

All I can say is, may God help me, and may my sister-in-laws clothes still fit me, as I know I am going to forget something.