Thursday was a bad, bad nausea day. The past couple of days I've felt kinda queasy, but not like on Thursday. I wonder how much of it is the McDonald's stink in the washroom at work. It just gets up my snout and stays there. Ugh.
I taught a bit on Wednesday and Thursday. Wednesday's lesson felt like a bit of a train wreck. It was on conditionals (which I'd never taught before) and I spent far too long on the grammar and not enough time on how what I was teaching connected with what the students need to do, namely, get good marks on their exams. Thursday's lesson was better, I'm glad to say.
Tomorrow I'm teaching for five and a half hours, all material I've never taught before. It's taken me most of the day to get the preparation done for the first three hours of it, because my powers of concentration are pretty much shot to hell. Now I'm writing a blog entry. Someone please kick my ass.
The Olympics are over and Canada got 24 medals, coming in third in the medal totals for its best result ever. Yay Canada. It's been interesting watching the Americans implode: Picabo Street has some interesting commentary up on the NBC site about the poor conduct of so many members of the US ski team. I mean, really, wearing a tiara to your medal ceremony, or going out drinking every night before your events: do you have any idea what the Olympics even mean? Have you given any thought at all to how you're representing your country to the rest of the world?
Watching Sam Sullivan waving the flag at the closing ceremonies was pretty damned cool. The CBC noted that he'd been practicing in parking lots in Vancouver before going to Torino, and that he'd gotten some police attention at least once. Heh. Nothing to see here; move along. No, really, I'm the mayor.
Tuesday is the appointment with the hematologist (the blood test results may or may not be in), and possibly an ultrasound. Please let there be a fetus there, and please let it be moving.
Back to the books. Don't know how I'll get through tomorrow.