Catchy title here

I'm really starting to wonder how many more years I'll be able to do grant writing-- at least, the way I do it now. I was brought into the project last week, so this week, I had to burn the candle at both ends. Thursday night/Friday morning, I was up writing til 3:22 a.m. After emailing everything and other stuff, fell into bed at 4 a.m. I then tossed and turned a lot-- I was super-caffeinated from having to stay up that late and concentrate.

My left pinky really feels like it's sprained, if not broken. (Not a metaphor).

Then, I was up again Friday morning by 9:30 a.m. (With some interruptions to ask Dash to get up with the kids-- I didn't think giving insulin and driving were such good plans). I got up very unwillingly at 9:30, and of COURSE there were major problems with the budget. Three hours later we found out that the major problem was that somehow I dicked with the calculation line on the foundation's excel sheet, so the formulas weren't adding things correctly.

By mutual agreement, I am not going to work on budgets anymore. Evah.

So, then, there was a lot of scurrying to make sure we had every other form to include, and then every signature we needed. Grant applications are scary and complicated and awful at the end. Everyone gets very terse and very blunt, if not actually impolite. But it's absolutely normal, so I don't worry about it. I certainly include myself with "everyone." I was on auto-pilot from lack of sleep. When I crashed last night around 6:30, I crashed pretty hard. I had told Sam I would take him out to run errands around 7:30 p.m., but Dereck took him instead (again, I didn't think driving that tired was a good plan).

My very sassy cat woke me up so I crawled out of bed at 8:30 p.m. for about an hour or so. Watched the beginning of Zombieland before returning to bed til morning. I did wake around 2:30 a.m. feeling pretty refreshed, but I wisely went back to sleep.

Even now, I feel a little groggy. Drinking coffee, hanging out with the kids. It takes so damn long to recover from these grants-- that is the main reason I am wondering what I'll do when I'm ten years older, 20 years older...

Yesterday, at one point, I came home to find a snowman waiting for me in the front yard. Then, I found out that another friend had tried to bring me beer, but I got the grant mailed off, express, with ten minutes to spare yesterday.

Around 9pm, our doorbell rang so urgently that I thought maybe someone had been hit by a car. Christian was right by the door, and saw someone climbing into their car and driving away. We had been food-bombed with chocolaty cheerio cookie treats. I must figure out who to food bomb in return-- we have a note urging us to share the karma.

Random acts of kindness definitely tipped the scale yesterday toward being a good day, when for several hours it was pretty lousy.

This morning, Dereck had to go to work. He called and asked me to check the van, because his car looked like it had been rifled through by someone. I checked the van-- the passenger door wasn't quite all the way closed, but otherwise, it looked fine. I'll check and make sure all of my chargers are there, but nothing looked odd when I checked.

Nothing was missing from the studio either, but we locked it anyway.

I hope the car van battery isn't run down because we are out of orange juice.

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