Crazy

On Monday, I stopped in the bank to deposit some money. The teller, a young man making conversation, asked whether I had to go back to work or if I was finished for the day.
I explained to him that I have the best work schedule ever this semester.
I have two online classes, so never have to show up to teach those, plus I have four classes on Tuesdays and Thursday. This leaves my Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, plus weekends free of work obligations. Sure, I have to grade papers and respond to students online, but having all of those days without set hours is such a freeing experience.
The teller agreed as I left the bank that I had an enviable schedule.

As the weather improved through this semester, I have spent hours walking with Sheila or painting the interior walls of the house, or meeting my writing friends at the coffee shop.

 I ran errands to Home Depot, over and over again, got laundry done, and caught up on all of my podcasts. I was living a life of leisure.
Then on Tuesday, the chair of the department emailed me. A professor couldn't finish the classes she started, could I take them over?
With all of that free time, and with us trying to minimize bills before Earl's retirement, I had no choice but to say yes.
The classes meet Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 8:19 a.m. and 12:09 p.m. for an hour each. And they are 44 minutes away from home.
So now, I leave the house at 7:15 a.m. and make the drive through rush hour traffic. The classes take place in a high school, and they are high school students. They look at me like deer in headlights. Their previous teacher taught high school and college classes.
The first class ends at 9:09 a.m., and there I am with three hours to kill before the next class begins.
 I could go to a computer lab with the high school students, or I could go to the teachers' lounge, which I know from my subbing days, is a place of gossip and laughter. I probably wouldn't get much work done there.
I found a Starbucks just about 10 minutes away and I've been sipping a peach hibiscus tea.
My plan is to use these three hours on grading and online work so that the rest of my day is free. Maybe I'll even get more accomplished since my days are more structured now, but, boy, there better be some free days to come when we move to France to make up for teaching eight college courses this semester.

Dinner MIA

Dinner at my house just doesn't happen any more.
Even with all five of us home this week, no one seems to be on a regular schedule.
I work during the day Monday, Wednesday, Friday and in the evenings on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. When I work during the day, I eat breakfast then usually don't eat until I get home at 2:30 or so. I'm always starving by then so I eat a combination of lunch/dinner.
Grace may be working during the day or in the evening beginning at 4 p.m. Tucker has classes every day and usually has to go to work at 5 p.m.
Earl comes home from work in the evening, often to find everyone else is working and dinner didn't happen.
It's just crazy.
The best plan would be to put a meal in the crock pot and let everyone eat whenever they want to before work or after work.
I tried that with noodles and, surprise, they got overcooked and mushy. The meals I can create and leave in the crock pot all day seem kind of limited, which is why we, like many Americans, end up grabbing food out.
Yesterday, I planned to make chili when I got home from work, but as I walked in and Grace ran out the door to a math class, she told  me that Spencer had just woken up.
He came into the kitchen, and I asked if he wanted an omelette. It was breakfast for him even though it was 2 in the afternoon.
So I made him an omelette, bacon and toast. Tucker came home from class, walked through the kitchen and made a "mmm" noise.
"Want an omelette?" I asked him. So I made the same meal for Tucker.
No sense making chili now that I made them meals, I thought. I had just a few hours before I had to leave for my evening class.

I hopped online and ordered a meal from Piada. Piada probably doesn't exist where you are, but it's like Chipotle except Italian. And if you don't have Chipotle, a piada is like a giant burrito shell with spaghetti and your choice of meat and sauce and veggies inside. I had zuchinni, mushrooms, black olives and artichokes in mine with chicken and red sauce.
I thought Tucker would be set since he had just eaten, but he wanted a piada to take to work with him.
We juggled cars as I ran to get the piada and Tucker left for work then Grace got home from class. Around 5, Spencer took the car to get a Chipotle burrito before I left for work
When Earl got home, he had Spencer's leftover burrito for dinner, but there are still those overcooked noodles he could have chosen.
What do you about meals and crazy schedules?