The end of the semester

Reading a fellow instructor's livejournal and listening to the Met broadcasting Wagner.

So there is this much for not quite knowing what you're doing next semester: You can spend the better part of morning watching La Dolce Vita, working out, coming back home and typing away at one's journal.

Here's the frustration/fun part: It looks as though I'll be teaching, for sure--that much, at least, is taken care of.

* * *

The Trollope article has, if nothing else, increased Trollope's sales by one.