I've had either a little virus or a rather small alien attacking my voice box over the past week. It has given me that deep, sexy smoker's voice most of the week that has come in real handy when the kids are in trouble. They seem to respond quicker to a deep voice. I've felt fine...just a raspy voice and the feeling that I have been run over by a Mack truck. I can't tell if the incessant exhaustion is from the cold or from the fact that abundant sleep has been pretty scarce over the past couple of months. Its amazing how little sleep you can get by on when you are stressed out...and how much your body craves that rest when the stress load minimizes.
Seriously though, I have felt like a walking zombie most of the week...or a teenager. They're kinda the same thing, if I remember those years correctly. I have adopted the 80-year old ritual of tucking myself in each night by about 9:00 and have used the cheap babysitter of DVR to my napping advantage more times than I care to mention this week.
Living life a bit on the edge last night by staying up past my new bedtime, I met an out of town friend for coffee at 8:30 last night...decaf coffee. Meeting at a spot close to the university, we were easily the oldest people in the building by about 8 years...and the placed was quite packed. The surrounding conversations consisted of mid-terms, weekend parties, and which dorm that so-in-so from economics lives and how it is so much cooler than "our" dorm. Man, did I feel old.