So the first week of PlaySkool went quite well -- I made it to classes more or less on time, knew what I was supposed to be doing, enjoyed the polite chitchat at the requisite BBQ and managed to pedal myself around town on my newly gearless (early anniversary present) bicycle. The Year 2 version of me was kinder, wiser, better dressed, and more self-possessed. I was thinking of declaring victory and looking into cloning myself.
Then we went away last weekend for a lovely wedding in Chicago, featuring a record four ministers (2 getting married and 2 performing the ceremony). Unfortunately, the weekend also featured: strong unidentifiable allergens, many smokers, 2 airplanes, 2 trains, 2 subways, a bus and a car, and a 30-minute period spent standing outside in the rain after 4 hours sleep. Not surprisingly, I am now staying home from PlaySkool, rubbing the skin under my nose a deep magenta, and frightening the dog with my deep-chest coughs.
Much sleep and tea are the day's agenda and I am, actually, starting to feel a little bit better, which is why I can summon cogent self-pity as opposed to yesterday's mere clogged bewilderment. But still. I was doing so well. It's only week 2. How can I already be miserable, wearing a sweatsuit, and behind on my schoolwork? How?