Thursday, March 5, 1992

My day off arrives a day early.  Eddie's had a rough night and with all his various health problems over the past week -- diarrhea, coughing, congestion, runny nose -- JoAnna and I decide that the guy needs a check-up.  Turns out that I'm the one with the flexible schedule (and loving it!).  I'm able to schedule a 9:30 appointment with Dr. Ellis.  It's ear infection time again.  After this visit, Eddie and I go food shopping -- at Woodman's for a change of pace.  The mammoth size and extensive inventory never cease to amaze me.  Too many choices.  Way too many choices.  And what happens when I'm ready to move to the checkout line?  I have to wait about 5 minutes to snail my cart to the cash register.  At Woodman's, it doesn't matter what time of day it is.  There is always a wait.

While Eddie sleeps, I type up more calendar squares.  I have an over-and-out argument with the demon. There will be no indulgence today, not when I have to be presentable for a 5-9 shift at the reference desk.  Even after work, I turn down a chance to go berserk.  Everyone's in bed when I get home, but I settle for an alcohol-free viewing of House Party.  Only milk and graham crackers are served.

January 29, 1992

#10 on the Billboard Hot 100

I've been so eager to keyboard past calendar boxes into our new computer that I find myself neglecting the present.  Tonight I make some sort of wild mis-stroke which narrows the margins drastically.  In my frustration, I end up linking all of my calendar files together but somehow manage to clear up the problem by the time I turn off the power.

Andy makes the strangest remark.

"You make me sad, Dad."

Because of my ranting at the computer?

Because I left him all alone to watch TV in the bedroom?

Earlier in the day, Diane Peterson interview for the children's librarian position and does very well. But I don't think we'll see her come to Middleton.  I'm sure she is making substantially more than we can offer.

Tuesday, January 28, 1992

SI

I spent most of the morning on the computer, inputting calendar notes or playing solitaire.  The afternoon is routine.  The special board meeting to discuss a director evaluation pilot goes much longer than I expected.  When I return home, shortly before ten, I'm surprised to find Andy is still awake and acting as though bedtime is still hours away.  After I put him to bed -- no protest -- I sit at the kitchen table and eat graham crackers and drink milk.  JoAnna cries out for me.  I expect her to have another anxiety attack, but she just wants my presence.