Apparently We Survived the Week That Wasn't There

Well.

We made it.

For those following along this week, Monday began with the revelation that I had somehow mentally deleted these five days from October.

They simply did not exist in my brain.

Wednesday, I was forced to acknowledge that the week apparently existed after all.

And now?

Friday.

The week that wasn't there is almost over.

We're still intact.

The world is still turning.

I'm counting that as a win.

This morning started in a way I haven't gotten in a while.

We took the boys to school together.

The whole family.

All six of us piled in and made the morning school run.

There wasn't anything particularly extraordinary about it.

We drove.

We talked.

We arrived.

Then I got to watch the boys take off toward school.

There is something strange about watching your kids walk away from you like that.

Not sad, exactly.

Just noticeable.

They're getting bigger.

More independent.

They know where they're going.

You pull up, the doors open, and off they go.

For a few seconds, you're just sitting there watching them walk into another part of their lives.

Then you put the car in drive.

We grabbed breakfast for everybody on the way home.

I settled in with coffee.

And prepared to close out Week Seven of school.

Simple enough.

A few discussion board posts.

Some replies.

Tie up the loose ends.

Get everything cleaned up before the final week of classes begins.

Responsible adult stuff.

Then I noticed something.

My anthropology final paper, Part Two, hadn't been submitted.

That's strange.

Because I distinctly remembered submitting it.

I knew I had.

So I started looking.

And I found it.

I had, in fact, submitted my anthropology paper.

Just not to my anthropology professor.

I submitted it to my public administration class.

Along with my actual public administration paper.

Excellent.

Somewhere, my public administration professor opened the assignment folder to discover that I had apparently become extremely ambitious and decided municipal government could no longer be properly understood without also discussing archaeological ethics, cultural stewardship, burial sites, and competing claims to historical property.

Interdisciplinary education.

You're welcome.

Thankfully, it was fixable.

I emailed the professor.

Explained what happened.

Clarified which paper was actually intended for the course.

Then I went back to anthropology and submitted the wandering paper to the class where it belonged.

Order restored.

Mostly.

I've now made my cohort posts.

I'm working through responses.

Week Seven is getting cleaned up.

And after that?

One week left.

The final week.

Two classes that have occupied a pretty significant amount of my brain for the last couple of months are almost done.

I'm ready.

I'm also hoping the accidental academic cross-pollination isn't an omen for the rest of today.

Because there's plenty waiting for me at work.

We have our weekly staff meeting.

We're talking about the things we're trying to finish this year.

We're talking about what's already moving.

And we're spending more time looking toward 2027.

That has been a theme for me this week.

I like October for that.

There's enough year left to finish things.

But next year is close enough that you can start shaping it.

Not everything is within our control.

But plenty is.

So we'll work on that.

Then?

Weekend.

Or at least whatever passes for one around here.

Tonight, I'm hoping to get online and play some games with friends.

Tomorrow, there will be the usual family chaos.

And somewhere in there, hopefully, there will finally be baseball.

David needs a baseball field.

At this point, I'm fairly certain the rest of us need David to have a baseball field.

There is energy in that child that needs somewhere to go.

Preferably toward a baseball.

At high velocity.

Away from my house.

Last weekend, rain took practice.

Then it took the game.

This weekend, we're hoping the weather cooperates long enough to let the kid play.

That's it.

I'm not asking for much.

A dry field.

A baseball.

A couple of hours.

Please.

Otherwise?

We're good.

The kids are doing well.

The family is doing well.

Schoolwork is getting finished.

Work is moving.

There is coffee.

Not enough coffee.

There is never enough coffee.

But there is coffee.

And somehow the week I forgot existed managed to contain Canadian Thanksgiving, final papers, family conversations, planning for next year, a missing scorpion necklace, school mornings, misplaced assignments, and whatever Friday still has waiting for us.

Not bad for five days that weren't on my mental calendar.

Maybe that's the appropriate ending for this week.

Nothing enormous.

No grand revelation.

No great lesson I needed to learn.

We just kept moving.

One day showed up.

Then another.

Then another.

We handled what was in front of us.

Sometimes well.

Sometimes by submitting anthropology papers to public administration professors.

But we handled it.

And now it's Friday.

The kids are good.

The family is good.

The work is getting done.

The schoolwork is almost finished.

Friends are waiting tonight.

Hopefully baseball is waiting this weekend.

The world is still turning.

And the week that wasn't there?

Turns out we lived it anyway.

Not every week needs to change your life. Some weeks just need to be lived. You take the kids to school. You watch them walk away. You bring breakfast home. You drink your coffee. You fix the paper you submitted to the wrong professor. You finish the work sitting in front of you and start thinking about the work coming next. Then, if you're lucky, you reach Friday with the people you love doing well and something to look forward to over the weekend. The week I somehow forgot existed turned out to be full of ordinary things. Maybe that's enough. Actually, I know it is.

Much love.

Stay safe.

Wash your damn hands.

And I will see you, next time.