Total and complete exhaustion - luckily, the semester is starting, and I'm going to San Diego next weekend

We were in New York for the blizzard. Actually, it wasn't an official blizzard, it was just two and a half feet of snow and 20 mph winds. In any case, it was enough to cancel our flight out of LaGuardia Sunday, and to propel us onto an aeronautic adventure through Washington, Charlotte, and finally San Francisco. We finally arrived home after twenty and a half hours travel.

It was a little disorienting. In fact, I double-checked my class time for today last night upon arriving home, to set an alarm, and mis-read the online schedule. I read that my class (the honors class I designed a few years ago) started at 11:15 am, in contrast to all previous years, when it has started in the afternoon. But apparently I misread this: the class started at 9:40, which I learned at 10:15, when Teresa Berry, our fabulous department secretrary, called to find out where the hell I was. I was at home, waiting to go to class.

Anyway, I got to class. I was a little surprised to find them there, and told them so. They were, for the most part, good sports about it. My confusion isn't really excusable, except insofar as I was coming off a 23 hour day, following a very stressful day dealing with heavy snow in New York (where, it turns out, they don't really deal with snow - go figure). I spoke a bit about the course, gave the students the course syllabus, and came home. After that I scored some Valentine's Day items, and we went erranding into the wilds of Modesto (aka Funkytown, aka "No Me Modesto"), since we lacked any of the essentials of daily life (to wit: fruits and vegetables).

And lo, I was suckered in by the damnable servants of Demon Capital, and I did go into the dark world that is called Guitar Center, and lo, there I did play many instruments, and was made weak in spirit; and there did I find a Cordoba classical acoustic-electric guitar half off, and it was good. And yea, verily, did I play upon it, and found its tones lovely and seductive; and its performance amplified sonorous, fat, and toothsome; and yea, verily, did I succumb to this lust in my soul, and bought it, and brought it home, with an amp, and &$*$!#*@#$$$, it was good.

Note that I haven't described either (a) why, or for what purpose, I bought this guitar; (b) the nature of our errands in Motown; nor (c) our trip to New York. That will all have to wait. I'm exhausted. We're going to have ice cream.