Not a restful night. I think it's my deep-seated frustration over the budget process this year.
At work, Liz and I have a spirited discussion over collection development priorities. Right now we're looking at a no-increase budget for 1992.
I spend the afternoon printing copies of my reference bibliography and laboring over Wednesday's acceptance speech. On the walk home, I consider a marriage analogy in referring to staff, but the Thomas hearing circus makes that seem inappropriate Then I remember a key phrase I mentally filed away a few days ago: "The best of times, the worst of times".
No comments:
Post a Comment