So yesterday I worked a lot on an article about fishing. Last semester I had a student who wrote exclusively about fishing. His father was a professional bass fisherman, and this was his only topic. I got so sick of it, I asked him please to write about something else. He wrote about hunting.

If only I had saved some of his papers.

Fortunately, #1 daughter is living in Shreveport. Fishing is huge there.

“There was a big thing at the convention center,” she told me. “People came to get autographs and pictures with the fishermen. They also caught fish in a big tank. I bet they were trained fish, though. They caught them and let them go and packed them up for the next show.”

She also told me it was all about the beer.

I’m also writing about a new technology for sterilizing biohazardous waste. And rewriting a brochure about reservations software for campgrounds. And linkbuilding for a nanny franchise.

Last night in Tuesday class we signed up for next year’s class. This is a seven year study, and I have now done all seven years. I’m amazed that it has been seven years. That seems like such a long time. I don’t know whether I wan tto continue it next year or not. Many people continue and go through it over and over. You’re at a different point in your life, they say, so the same study means different things to you.

I might like to have Tuesday evenings at home. I currently have only Friday evenings at home. However, I enjoy Tuesday night class, and it’s the time when I hang out with Partygirl. I might not see her otherwise. In fact, I have quite a few friends whom I only see at Tuesday night class. I’ll have to think about it over the summer.

Summer! It’s hardly even spring yet. But my fellow teachers are asking about how the semester is ending, and we’re kind of feeling like everything is winding up. I’m teaching summer school — five days a week. I’m concerned about fitting in all my work. Right now, I’m engaged in being calm about my work for the rest of the week. I have about fifteen more billable hours’ work to do, plus teaching. There are three days left. I can do this.

I have a client who wants to meet with me. I met with her last week — bringing the unbillable hours on the project up to 4.5, when the budget only covers 5 billable hours — and then wrote up her site. I sent it to her and told her I had time for revisions on Monday. On Tuesday, she sent me something completely different that she had written herself. I offered to correct the typos, but she said she wants to meet and work on it together.

I thought of those signs you see on garage walls:

But I’m trying to have a gracious spirit about it. Last night we heard a lot about the importance of having a gracious spirit. She has no idea what my schedule is like, after all. She doesn’t know that my life has been stressful lately. She probably thinks it will be fun.

If only it were about fish. I could use a collaborator on that fishing article.