The Calm After the Storm Could Be Its Eye

Now that my partner is finished with her all-consuming deadline and my father-in-law truly seems to be on the mend -- he has a long way to go, still -- I can sit back and, well, not relax. Like her, I'm being overwhelmed by waves of deferred stress from the past month's madness, as well as the already massive stress that was doubly deferred to make room for the extra deferral. All I can say, to sound like a broken record -- for those of you who even know what a broken record sounds like, skeuomorph that the phrase has become -- is that it's a really good thing I started my late-night bicycle riding. Right now I have a dinner I'm preparing for future leftovers on the stove and am listening to the first Teenage Fanclub -- Matador #012-2 -- record in an effort to restore a sense of composure. But it seems to be a losing battle. Maybe the Bears will make a good show against the Bruins tomorrow night to brighten my spirits, though their odds of actually winning the game are remote. Back to the stove. . .