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Just so you guys know how much I love you: I have exactly fifteen minutes free time this morning in which to do something purely personal, and I chose to spend them blogging.  I’ve been trying to get a blog post out to you guys all week.  The name of the post you’re currently reading has changed at least four times, every day I try to finish writing it, and then have to change the saint’s name when I can’t.  I’m hoping that today’s saint (St. Isobel of France) stays at the top.  I’ve always liked Isobel, if only because she’s got a pretty name.  But regardless: on with the blogging!

The other night at swing dancing (see?  I do too have a life outside of work!  Sort of.) one of my cute little dancing students told me that she had made me into a super hero.  Apparently she had an assignment to write an essay on a non-traditional female super hero (BA-ness minus spandex), and she decided that I was her super hero, with super powers of amazing swing dancing.  Which is pretty sweet.

Frankly, I’ve always figured that if I were a super hero (or mad genius – either one will do) I would take over the world with my insane powers of Cute (you will do my bidding, and you will like it).  And it is true that I am currently bending an entire hospital around my little finger through the sheer force of my charming personality and willingness to work late to get uniform orders in.  (As proof of my progress, I would like to submit an e-mail I got Friday from a certain cranky police sergeant saying simply, “You rock.”) But perhaps if I added in a super power of dancing (you just dazzle them with swing-outs until they give in), I would have already completely bent them to my will instead of only made significant progress.  But then, I’ve only been working here for eight weeks.  So perhaps I shouldn’t complain.

From the above you could gather that work is going well, which it is.  I’m working way too many hours, doing 10 and 11 hour days pretty much every day, and getting pretty tired.  I’m still working on that sleep schedule thing.  I kept inadvertently staying up way later than I meant to this past week, which meant that by Thursday I had a near constant splitting headache, and was having little random crying jags about ridiculous stuff.  That was when I decided to text my CL peeps to let them know that I wasn’t coming, and go home to sleep.  That night I was asleep by 9pm, and it was glorious.

It’s a good thing I got some extra sleep on Thursday.  Friday was the beginning of our own Dayton Swing Smackdown, which has been keeping me plenty busy all weekend.  This year I’m doing a reprise of last year’s deal, in which I work my butt off for my friend Bounce (the organizer and CEO of Smackdown) all weekend, and then get in to everything free.  Last year I was so broke that this was the only way I would have been able to go at all.  This year (thanks to all those extra hours I’ve been working), I’m flush enough that since I don’t have to pay admission, I can afford to pay for a private lesson with one of our Super Awesome International Instructors.  This is the first time I’ve had a private lesson of any kind, so I’m pretty excited.  It’s been so long since I was able to travel or take workshops or anything that I don’t really know where I am with my dancing, or what I need to work on to be better.  So I’m hoping that my teacher will be able to tell me.

And now my fifteen minutes, not of fame, but of blogging is up.  It’s time to go take a shower and get my butt out the door so that I can open up the dance studio for someone else’s private lesson at noon (mine isn’t until after this afternoon’s classes).  When the dancing part of  my day is over, I’ll be heading to 6pm Mass, doing some quick grocery shopping/necessity purchasing for the week, and then heading over to my neglected ESL student’s house for a quick tutoring session.  Between the long work hours and not getting enough sleep, she hasn’t been getting as much tutoring time from me as usual, and it’s starting to throw her into a panic.  So she needs a little TLC.

And then I will go home to sleep the sleep of the just.

And it will be good.