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Maybe we'll just chalk this week up to exhaustion and burnout.

Yesterday was a day of recovery from food poisoning, followed by four hours on the road -- and a great evening with my sister. And listening to the Red Sox win on the radio.

Today was a day of unmitigated exhaustion. It wasn't that I couldn't wake up -- I did. I went to work and everything.

But I couldn't think. I stared at computer screens that didn't resolve into words. I sat in meetings and barely could focus. I came home, ate something basic, and went to sleep for six hours. I'm about to go back to sleep.

I have notes for two snarks sitting in a folder on my computer's desktop. One involves the word "Mandible," and the other has a picture of a monkey. I have about twenty-seven unread Websnark e-mails sitting in the Websnark account.

I am typing this, instead, and then I'm going to bed. Tomorrow's Parents Weekend at the school, which means that barring a catastrophic failure of the database the faculty use to grade our kids, I'm not going to have to do a damn thing. You'll get them then, right after I put an overdue paid assignment to bed.

Chicken Salad is a deadly killer. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.


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Better the chicken salad than the salmon mousse.

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