Fuuuuuuuucccckkkk. Some asshole on my Kenyon alumni group is bleating and moaning about how she got unfriended because she voted Trump (by me). She's the most hypocritical Marin county, rich, supported-by-her-husband asshole who wants to assure everybody how much she supports gay rights (though she voted for a man who will literally strip Federal gay right protections on the first day). Fuck that fucker. Enemy list.

Plus, my business partner who assured me he would NOT do the one thing that I said was utterly shitty and counter productive and wasting of my work and time, then went and DID that very fucking thing today.

And...my right hip has developed a new interesting pain which spikes up to a 9 and has me limping like Ahab around the Pequod and makes me hate every fucking thing.

So I've got an extra portion of hate to spare.

I am totally in a Smash It All mood.

Canada would be nice. But I have the day off; maybe I'll go hiking or skiing or something that takes me far away from the news.

Consuela, I have requested the day off and would be interested in hiking. I don't know how to ski, though.

Ugh. Burn it all down, David. You need to show some folks they shouldn't mess with you. (And, I don't know, burn down your hip, too. Metaphorically.) (But maybe lie on a heating pad. Just not until it burns.)

Consuela, I have requested the day off and would be interested in hiking.

Hiking it is! We'll go to the redwoods somewhere. Depending on the weather, anyway.

(But maybe lie on a heating pad. Just not until it burns.)

Good idea. It feels like structural damage. Like maybe there's a little tear in the labrum in there.

It sucks. Burninate!

Okay. It being That Kind of Day, the heating pad seems to have actually melted part of my (apparently) acrylic sweat pants.

Oh, no, David. That's when I'd say, "screw it," pop an anti-inflammatory of some kind, go to bed, and hope Thursday behaves a little better.

Okay. It being That Kind of Day, the heating pad seems to have actually melted part of my (apparently) acrylic sweat pants.

You need a live rooster to take the curse off you.

I personally would consider interacting with a live rooster to be something of a curse in itself.

So, I interviewed for the classics librarian job four months ago today. I have heard nothing at all. In mid-December I nudged my internal source and he said he didn't know anything. I'm assuming I am not going to be offered the job at this point - I am assuming they have managed to offer it to someone and are in the negotiation stage - but for me to move on and decide what I want to do with the rest of my life I need to know.

The chair of the search committee retired at the end of December; her position is open and I have no idea who is now running the committee. Should I contact the low-level HR person who made the logistical arrangements for my interview? Do I ask what the timeline is? Do I ask who the replacement chair is? Do I contact the person I know on the committee with whom I have a nodding professional acquaintance? Do I just continue to wait? There's still a slim chance I could be offered the job, I suppose, so I don't want to burn bridges.

I am so tired of waiting. Academia is cruel.