Sunday, September 11, 2005

Sunday morning

"Relax and get refreshed," I told harried colleagues on Friday afternoon. For the denizens of academe, the weekend in early September is a cold bottle of Coca-Cola on a porch stoop after a serious game of freeze tag.

We'uns in our fifties remember frosty bottles of Coke.

By the second week of the semester, the excitement of a Fresh, New Semester begins to dampen. The physical stress stemming from not just the onslaught of all those bright young faces but also from the rude transition from Summertime when the living is easy to responsible Fall has taken its toll.

We need a weekend, whether that means getting a head start on the grading of papers like my husband Bill or loafing with a good book like me.

And where is my divine Friend? Fiddling with the innards of creation, plying his watchmaker trade while I loaf and get not less stressed out but more. Loafing segues into anxiety if you don't know when to stop.

So I stop now, and greet my Friend. Let's play. It is the day of rest.

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