How Obvious

There's a meeting at 10 am this morning with the university president, a sort of town-hall update thingy, which is obviously not going to be pretty, though I doubt it will include things like, "Everybody who still works for this university, raise your hand...Oh, not so fast, TC!"

There's a meeting at 2 pm this afternoon with our division head, a sort of debriefing from the town-hall update, which is obviously not going to be pretty. And while I doubt there'll be any "not so fast, TC" handraising there, either, it may give me a better idea about whether or not I should bother buying many university-logo-emblazoned sweatshirts in the near future, I'm thinking.

On Wednesday, we have N's IEP meeting. It's not going to be pretty. It's already involved several snippy phone calls and vague threats and tears...all coming from me.

All of which might explain the fact that, at 5:23 this morning, I woke up from the tail end of a nightmare in which a plane N and I were traveling on--me on the opposite side of the aisle from him--suddenly turned upside down, righted itself, and then begin to spin into the NYC skyline. All while I was trying to unbuckle my seatbelt to get over to him, but couldn't get it to release, and just kept screaming, "Oh god, oh god, oh godohgodohgod..."

I really do have the world's most disappointingly uncreative subconscious. I mean, COME ON. Couldn't it have tried to put SOMETHING in code? Maybe have us crash into a different city from the one we'd be most likely to flee to in a time of crisis? Or at least put Em on the plane with us, so that it wasn't quite so obvious which child I feel I can't quite reach?

Sheesh. I'd say I need a shrink, but I really don't. At least not to decipher my dreams for me, that's for sure. I do, however, need some sleep, because I never quite got back to it after that. And I obviously need some stress reduction. And maybe some booze. Which is the best form of stress reduction I know.

Not to mention it might not be the best idea for me to be reading the unbearably graphic Holocaust novel my book club chose right before bed. I'm betting that's not helping, either. Because I'm smaht like that.