Exhaustion. Complete and total exhaustion. Mental meltdown. Physical collapse. The body and mind are at the wall and there is no end in sight. Hospital still full of Katrina patients. Rita evacuees coming in. Maggies birthday celebrated,,cleaned, cooked, shopped, wrapped, served, entertained, cleaned again, commiserated, plotted, laundered,,and back to work the next day. Why was I surprised that the entire guest list was male? Why was I surprised at the volume of food consumed? Why was I surprised that all males in attendance were cute and sweet and smart and funny? Mallory made the trek for the party,,still enduring the most unprofessional conduct of one gigantic ass of a teacher. Should he even be called a teacher? I suppose it is his job description. Mallory is not in choir for the first time in 17 years. She doesn't want to be at school. This being the same Mallory that lives for music and counts down the days until she returns to school each summer. He will pay. Dearly. This I promise.
Traffic last night was beyond description. An hour to go one block. One block. ACL is this weekend. Hurricane Rita wants to share equal billing. Austin was already overflowing with Hurricane Katrina evacuees. Add 45,000 ACL attendees and all of the people fleeing the Gulf. An hour to go one freakin block. Amazing. I'm home and staying here. Bring on the rain. Let the wind blow. With a little luck I'll sleep right through it. Wouldn't that be just grand? Sleep. Blessed sleep.

Listening to: Amel Larrieux
Reading: too freakin tired to read