I am one of the walking dead this morning: I got in from the ALDS game last night at roughly 12:30, after some hysteria on my part surrounding the printing of a SAT admission ticket (on my part — the person who was supposed to have dealt with this had gone to bed two hours previously, which was just as well since he’s taking the test this morning) — got to bed at 1:30, got up at 6:30 to prepare a substantial breakfast for said test-taker. Have dropped him off at the testing center (he was remarkably zen about everything this morning), dropped his brother off at his park ranger job, and am now sitting in a Starbucks waiting to meet up with a former boss to do… precinct walking. Yes, precinct walking.
Note: I am not getting paid for this, and it’s my day off. Yes, it’s insanity. At least I am not phone banking. (I actually had said I would not do phone banking since that was what I did Sunday through Thursday.)
If this is disjointed, it’s because the salted carmel mocha has not kicked in. Come to think of it, I have not finished drinking it yet. Ah, that’s the problem. More caffeine needed.
All the teams I am rooting for in the baseball playoffs (in descending order of interest: the Rays, A’s, and whichever team is playing the Braves, even if it does mean that I am forced to root for the Dodgers) lost yesterday. The Bucs are pretty awful right now. My sports world is not doing well.
I am trying not to think about the shutdown. I am rationing Starbucks these days anyway, but may do so more. (We got a Keurig as a Christmas present, and that has been helpful in weaning me off the $4.95 coffee (or two!) a day habit.
Actually, I am more worried about what will happen if they don’t raise the debt limit. The shutdown is a potential catastrophe for nonessential federal employees (which includes 97% of NASA) and contractors and the businesses that rely on them ; the effects of a debt crisis are even more far-reaching.
Walking went well; it is almost always more fun than phone-banking, even when the weather is unpleasantly warm.
During the Chavez campaign, early on, one coworker mentioned he was coming in on his day off to do volunteer precinct walking. “M., do you have a life?” I asked in mock horror. When I see him at work next week, I need to tell him I take it all back.
I’m just as crazy as he was.