I am, once again, on the literal and proverbial couch, watching the 1983 Sugar Bowl (the flea flicker to Herschel just happened) and telling you what little I have in my head that is appropriate for universal consumption.
From my relative absence of late, you may have reasoned that I have become no less busy since I wrote recently about the strangeness of working in the band room once again. That "two weeks only" is now in danger of becoming a month. The nostalgic fuzziness of returning to a place that holds the memories of nearly half of my life has worn mostly off.
I am now working just enough hours to make sure that operations continue, and working little enough that it is in the personal best interest of those in charge to hire someone permanent. In the meantime, the school is basically paying the money that my insurance company wouldn't pay for my computer.
Serendiptous as the temporary gig is, I am ready (as Dwight once said) not to be a shepherd anymore. More pressing matters await.
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