I apologize...

...for the lack of post yesterday. I know, you were disappointed. But see, there was figure skating on until really late at night. And there are four things that I'll stay up past eleven for- sequins, power ballads, tearful sports triumph stories, and Johnny Depp.

Thankfully, the ladies figure skating final provided three of the four. Not bad. I'm not going to lie, I was hoping that the little American twit would fall on her face. She wouldn't have to really hurt herself...just screw up enough that Dead Mom Girl could get a medal. And she did! (Screw up. Not fall. Whatever.)

Yeah. So there was that. And then I fell asleep. Which was hardly worth a post anyway.

Oh! I know! I wanted to talk about National History Day! And some observations I've made!

(I don't know why I'm still using exclamation points!)

This weekend is kind of crazy hectic because for some reason the deadline for applying is roughly six minutes before the start of the competition so I have to finalize the program and make 400 copies and then HAND STAPLE on the covers because they haven't figured out how to make the machine do that yet and make room signs and judge badges and oh, yeah, can you inscribe these 368 certificates of achievement by tomorrow morning while you have your actual job and a paper to write?

I mean, I don't mind. Because they're paying me more than I would make being a prostitute.

(I think. I don't really have a whole lot of experience.)

But as I was using a glue stick like a six-year-old to make exhibit signs this afternoon, it occurred to me. They've only had the grant for an assistant (me) for two years. Which means until two years ago, my boss was doing all this menial stuff by herself. I'm sure she really felt the Ph.D. was worth it when her hand was cramped from writing out a certificate for the eighteenth Mikayla of the day (SERIOUSLY. There were a LOT of kids named Mikayla/Michaela/Mikala, etc. in the early '90s.)

She probably felt similar to the guy who has to share her office with four other people. (Colleen: I'm sure he feels really good about himself. Sitting at a desk next to the 22-year-old who doesn't even have a bachelor's degree yet.)

Yeah. I'm kind of overwhelmed and I'm paranoid that I'm going to forget something major like the exhibit tents or I'll wake up on Saturday and I'll have forgotten something for all 368 contestants.

What? I'm paranoid.

(But being paid for it.)

However, my alternative for this weekend was the confirmation retreat. So while I am kind of going crazy and I can't move my right hand because DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TAKES TO WRITE (NICELY, NOT ALL SCRAWLY) 368 FREAKING NAMES A LONG TIME THAT'S HOW LONG, I'm pretty sure I'll be getting significantly more sleep.