Oh my goodness, y'all. The world needs to lay off my Buffistas.

Hey, Bad Luck, you have the pointer stuck on Plei. Time to move it along to someone else—ideally a billionaire.

This, a thousand times.

And everyone else with the bad news and the stress and the hard family stuff — oof. I'm so sorry.

I'm doing fine overall, but the Hundred Days of May may kill this tired teacher. Aside from one 24-hour break when I ran up with one of my besties to see Tig Notoro in San Luis Obispo, I've been working nonstop schools days, nights, and weekends for the last three weeks. ND has been out of town, and I've been juggling work, vet visits for sick animals, physical therapy for my neck and shoulder, and all the final deadlines of my students' publications and schoolwork. I'm also REALLY ready to move back into our real house. We've been in a sweet, little guesthouse in Northridge during the renovation, but it's very small for two humans (sometimes), two big dogs, and two cats, three of whom are elderly and have various ailments. The good news is that we are moving back in during the first week of June. The bad news is that the cabinets were delayed, so we have no kitchen until probably late June. It's going to be tricky, but we can't afford to keep renting and it's getting harder to manage the logistics of the dogs at the rental, so back we're going.

Okay, must write a speech I have to give tomorrow, finish giving feedback on a dozen articles, and grade some things before bed.