That'll Put Marzipan in Your Pie Plate, Bingo!

Grading continues. There are technical glitches with our course management system, students writing panicked emails, uploading things where they don't go, sending them in attachments to me, the TA, or both. Your usual end-of-semester apocalyptic chaos, with a few added twists.

So of course, I'm going out tonight.

I've been kind of hermit-y of late, partly due to extreme busy-ness, partly due to depression. I think I'm slowly rematerializing from the latter, and I don't want the isolation, stress, and tedium of Hell Week(s) to get in the way of progress. So I'm taking the night off to have some fun. I'm finally starting to buy into the idea that my mental and physical health is more important than work. I'm adopting the Leslie Knope philosophy of life:

We need to remember what's important in life: friends, waffles, work. Or waffles, friends, work. Doesn't matter, but work is third.

What do old folks do when they want a crazy night out on the town? Why, they go to bingo, of course!
In fairness, this ain't your mama's bingo. It's held monthly at a hip music venue downtown, and some friends of mine are hosting it, so hilarity is guaranteed. Afterward, there will be karaoke at the gay dive bar we occasionally take over on nights when there are student shows (they love us because we liven up the place, there are no woo girls in the crowd, and we're generous tippers).

I won't be staying late, since tomorrow I really need to get a ridiculous amount of grading done, plus I have a doctor appointment and plans again in the evening, but for tonight, I'm just going to pretend I'm fancy free. Just a girl out on the town during the holiday season. Like a normal person!

Let's see if I can pull it off. Get (keep?) my mojo--or marzipan--in my pie plate, so to speak. (But I actually don't like marzipan, so I hope it's only a metaphorical effect of the evening's adventures.)