I need a long no-responsibilities vacation like I need air, but it's not possible for the foreseeable future, and the burnout is intense. I need respite.

I may not be mobile tomorrow. What gets my goat is that I only got 3700 steps on my watch after doing all of this and getting rid of a large squirrel cadaver after Miss Tillie dispatched it.

"...of particular concern as the [VP-elect Vance]... has declared that "professors are the enemy" and expressed admiration for... authoritarian Orban's] takeover of this country's universities..."

www.insidehighered.com/opinion/blog...

I swear, listening to my mom try to pronounce "pancreatitis" is akin to how people intentionally and progressively butcher Benedict Cumberbatch's name over the course of a paragraph. Or like a game of Telephone. Every iteration is a little further from the correct pronunciation.

Alright, who had a Dr. Oz nomination on their Bingo card?

Caregiver burnout is very real. As I sit here in my office obsessing about an interaction with Mom this morning ("You were supposed to call me when you got safe to work and I didn't know if you were still alive" (I took a 30 minute detour beyond normal for a mammogram and, between (pt 2)

Between accosting visitors with kisses, watching Christmas trees go up, wishing I didn't have to work, and stealing ground chuck off the stove, Tillie's had a busy week.