Yesterdaywas Viator’s annual field day and I went early for the Mass and to see my kids run around like, well, kids at a field day. It was great fun. How I wanted to run, just once! I kept shouting at them to keep their heads down and elbows in for the sprint. In vain. Most of them ran like Forrest Gump minus the leg braces (and th’ theck Suth’en aiksent). All heart, but rather painful to watch.
I left the school a couple hours later to meet some friends for lunch and then I went to the bank to transfer my salary, that’s been building up without an outlet, to my longstanding account in the USA. Now I can use that money *online*. After that I helped a coworker pick up an unexpectedly large amount of GEPT (General English Proficient Tests) materials for students.
Now, I’d gotten to bed late Wednesday and got up early Thursday, so after all this hustle and bustle on my day off, I got home and was WIPED OUT. I went upstairs, checked my email and a few favorite blogs, lay on my bed, read a little of Newman’s _Apologia_, and then feel asleep at 6:30 PM. (That shudder you felt yesterday at the same time was a ripple in the space-time continuum; and that chill you felt was hell freezing over. Blame me.) Then I slept, without a moment of consciousness, until 1:30 AM. Reluctantly, very reluctantly, I got up, washed my face, brushed my teeth, refilled the toilet (so to speak), turned off my PC and lay back in bed until I fell asleep again at 3 AM or so. The next thing I knew, my alarm went off at 6:50 AM. Almost eleven hours of sleep in a single night. Uncanny. Seductive. I have rarely if ever (apart from bouts of sickness) slept so early for and so long. But it was exactly what I needed.
Of course, damn my eyes, here I am, up late, retarding the effects of last night’s bliss. I think I have somnophobia, honestly. Time to face my fear and get on bed. Ta ta.
 I wrote this post on Friday but couldn’t publish it for some blog-horrific reason.
 Speaking of which, I believe I *just* cleared my college debts — snap! — in one fell swoop (or click, as the case may be). Sure, I don’t have, ahem, quite as much moula in my account for now, but I should be all right once I get my next pay check November 1. O God, bless this move; may I no longer be under the burden of debt, how ever light or manageable it is.