6:30 a.m.—Alarm. Hasn’t snowed after all. Huzzah. Can put on fun shoes.
7:30 a.m.—SMS’d the brilliant Stephen [Bradshaw], who has a big presentation today. Smug feeling of spousal piety before class prep.
8:45 a.m.—Walk to work. Again, can I hear it for the lack of snow on High St. sidewalks?
9:30 a.m.—Tudors and Stuarts, or Tuds and Studs as Willa Collins ’16 calls it. Renaissance woman Sydney Hamamoto ’19 snaps photo. Joey Robertson ’19 promises to take shirt off (in The Tempest, March 11-13).
11:00 a.m.—Some numpty keeps setting my classes’ assignments and I have to grade them. Gotta shut that down.
12:00 p.m.—Give up on grading for frantic class prep. Repeat after me: “Luna Bars are not glorified candy.”
1:00 p.m.—Sprint across campus in heels but still late for my own Global Learning Tutorial. Fortunately class transfixed by Sarah Arena ’16’s Italian lesson. Dolcissima! We do Botticelli, Leon Battista Alberti and Michelangelo and it is sublime.
2:30 p.m.—Talking with student and sibylline Professor [Mirzam] Perez, Spanish. What Would Tammy Taylor do, y’all?
3:00 p.m.—Special Collections in Burling to look at some Bacon, Fuch, Newton and Descartes for “Making Knowledge” research seminar tomorrow. Librarian Chris Jones lets Professor [Pablo] Silva, History, and me at donation from generous book-collector. I shop selectively; taking a mere 50 volumes back to Mears.
4:15 p.m.—Office hours. When I find that assignment-setting numpty …
6:15 p.m.— Swear loudly when I realize I haven’t answered an email since 8 a.m.
7:00 p.m.—Conduct comparative analysis of train vs. bus transfers between Florence and Bologna airport on Easter Monday for party of 18 based on probability of missed flights, lost luggage, motion-sickness, anaphylaxis, arrest, deportation and transport union strikes.
7:40 p.m.—Walk home. Have forgotten both grading and food shopping.
8:00 p.m.—Highly indecisive potter around McNally’s.
8:30 p.m.—Pajamas! Pinot! Where have you been all my day? Dinner. It had kale in it. Honest. SMS from Stephen, who is knackered. Has he no Pinot and PJs?
9:30 p.m.—Return to the fray. Prep for Faculty Research Colloquium on Friday.
11:30 p.m.—Contemplate dog-knapping Professor Elfenbein’s new puppy, Red. Decide to brush teeth instead.
