It's Sunday night, 10 pm. I've had a terrific weekend but I'm tired, nicely physically tired from skiing outside in the cold fresh air all day. I just read to With-a-Why, snuggled with him until he fell asleep, and it took all my willpower to leave that warm comfy bed. I've got to stay up because I have stuff to prepare for class tomorrow. I bribed myself to do work by telling myself I could write for ten minutes -- ten minutes, no more -- and post something to my blog.
I just sat down at my desk for the first time today, and switched on the computer to see a whole bunch of nice comments on the post I wrote yesterday. I love getting comments; it's like getting letters. (Are any of you old enough to remember when friends wrote letters on paper and mailed them in envelopes, with stamps turned upside down or SWAK written across the flap?) I like being part of this blog community. I know, as I pull stuff out of my grey school bag, that I'm not alone: I know throughout this community, other people like me are preparing for class when they would rather be sleeping and promising themselves for the millionth time that next weekend, they are going to get everything done by Friday afternoon.