Blogging Against the Clock

I’m posting against a timer tonight — only 15 minutes for this post, because I brought too much work home that has to get done by tomorrow morning. I had to catch the 6pm train home tonight if I wanted to have dinner with the Mrs., Princess, and Junior, because tomorrow is the first day back at school for the kids and we needed to put them to bed closer to their regular 8pm bedtime. We got them down just before 8:30, which isn’t bad considering they needed a bath and have been going to bed well after 9 for the entire winter break. Everyone managed with a minimum of fuss and bother, which was a nice surprise, and Junior even cleaned up his toys after dinner without screaming about it (the brownie that was waiting for him when he was done was a powerful incentive).

Once the kids are back on their regular schedule, I expect to start getting into work earlier — I’ve been getting in to the office at 9:30 or later since New Year’s. I have court tomorrow at the Daley Center at 9:30, so I need to be downtown by 9 at the latest, though, because I forgot to throw the file in my briefcase before I ran out into the rain to catch the train. I’ll have to get up early, since I want to get another run in before the weather goes back to normal.


Walking back to the office after running some errands during lunch today, I saw a small group of anti-war protesters holding up a big yellow banner urging an end to the war, and others holding anti-Bush signs. I had forgotten that the President was in town today (despite having to look at the enormous picture of him looking completely befuddled on the front page of the Sun-Times this morning — not what I wanted to see over my oatmeal), and his motorcade was apparently on its way down Dearborn. I debated staying to stick out my tongue, or moon him, or glare disapprovingly as he drove by — I didn’t have the time or materials to make a big “God hates fascist pigs” sign — but I decided that it wouldn’t make me feel any better, and he wouldn’t care, and I didn’t want to waste a billable quarter-hour.

My 15 minutes were up a couple of minutes ago. Back to the grind.


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