This is the first day...

of the rest of your life. Ahem. Well anyway. I had my meeting with the grad student. It wasn't at all what I expected. I'm quickly learning that the world of academia is nothing more than a long series of networking. From this meeting, the grad student will e-mail the lab group asking if they would like to make use of a slave (err... umm... assistant, yea that's it) for a while. From there I will be put to work doing large amounts of data entry and journal research. Good news is that this can be done at any time, so it will fit into my very bizarre schedule. Bad news is that it is extremely boring. I assured her that I can handle boring. I do boring for a living. Oh geez, I meant I do data entry for a living. Technically I am order entry/customer service. They throw the /customer service in so I feel like part of the team without actually costing them the money of a customer service specialist. It isn't working.

I'm pretty excited. We are going on our first actual 'vacation' this weekend. Well sort of a mini vacation. We rented a cabin in some state park for a couple of days this weekend. While the part of me that is my father's daughter scoffs at staying in a cabin (That's not real camping!), the other, older, achier part of me is glad of my husband's foresight in getting up something with a bed. The park has a lake, so my one concession to physical fitness can be enjoyed if the weather allows :) It should be really nice, the great and glorious weather people are predicting temps around 80, and we all know they are *never* wrong.

I'm reading a book called Inkheart, it is really good so far! For some reason I have been on a children's book kick. Anne of Green Gables, Inkheart, Harry Potter, Little House On The prairie. They are all like dear old friends, that I only get to see every once in a while. Trapped in their pages are the tatters of my innocence. Times when life was safe, and held all the possibilities I could dream up. Even the books that weren't around when I was a child seem to sweep me back to being curled up on my twin bed in my parent's house. Sometimes I think I smell the lilacs from the bush that was outside my bedroom window. Enough waxing poetic. Off to begin the first of many lists of what to pack for two days away from home with the two monkeys that masquerade as my children.