A is back from sunny Florida. The return flight wasn't exactly smooth: flight delays had me waiting until 2 a.m. instead of the originally-scheduled 9 p.m. arrival.

I missed him so much. But this morning I sent him straightaway to the darkroom. With all the rolls of film he's now got to develop, he's got work to do.

Then, my turn: this weekend, I am on departmental duty. I have to search through nine periodicals to check on the "financial health" of the company I work for, and anything in the gossip pages. This morning I found a couple of things, forwarded them to my boss, who then forwarded two to the Chief. That's one degree of separation between me and the Chief.

I am listening to Moby.

Planning dinner.

Sent off our quarterly report to our Homeschooling Coordinator this past week, with recent testing results. If my son takes tests, I want the Coordinator to see the results. I go through trouble for this nonsense, and so does my son. Not every homeschooling parent feels comfortable doing this, but I know homeschooling works. I have nothing to hide.

Sent off "official transcripts" with curricula and teacher-created reference letters (which I copied) for this and last year to four of the eight private schools to which we are applying. Little Pinko Schoolhouse needed the Student Essay two days ago. Check, with transcripts. JFK Jr. School needed their app by yesterday. Check, with transcripts. Dalton: Check (sent karmic correspondence along with the transcript). Wild Card: Check.

Next: Bucolic Campus School, Friends, Connecticut School, Horsey School out in the Wild Wild West.

Desperately want to sleep.

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