Freshmen advising yesterday turned out to be easy. I had one freshman and one reactivated student who had already been through the requirements and figured out what they wanted to take, which was half of my job right there, and that was it. We did not have the teeming hordes of students we had been lead to expect. So we were out of there early, which I can hardly complain about. I played an hour of badminton with a friend, then Jeff picked me up and we came home. Dinner was all about my cravings: salad rolls, brown rice, pan-fried tofu (and either Mark Bitman lied, or I'm not using a high enough setting on the stove, because that too much longer than 3 to 4 minutes on each side) and peanut sauce. It turned out really well; Jeff said it was my best batch of peanut sauce yet. I'm getting to the point where I don't need to follow many recipes precisely, and I can taste things and go "Oh, this needs X or Y" and have it turn out really nicely. This pleases me greatly.
So we dinnered and Enterprised and headed to bed early; we're both still fighting off our colds. Mine has cycled to my ears and chest. I'm on like, 12 hour cycles with this cold, not 2 days, which means I might actually be done by Monday, which would rock. Go go gadget immune system.
I'm eating some leftover dinner for lunch, with as much sweet chili sauce as I can stand - between that and the pseudo-Claritan and the hot tea, the cotton in my head is letting up a bit. Tonight we're going over to my parents' for dinner and hanging out with the sisters (Faith is in town for the weekend), so I should stop babbling at the internets, pick an odious task off the thesis list, and get started.
[eta]: So, while Boomer and the transcription software were waging an epic battle (which is still in progress), I picked the most odious task off my list - calling the latest stranger and asking for something. I'd spoken to his priest yesterday, and he'd given me the guy's home and cell numbers. I hate calling people on their cells unless they've told me to call them, so I tried his house last night and got no answer. I tried again just now:
"Hello, is [dudsie] there?"
"... Do you know when he'll be back?"
"No, I don't."
"... allrighty then, I'll try again later."
I didn't try to leave a message; I was not confident that it would reach the guy. So, frack it, I tried his cell; if his priest is giving out the number, that's good enough for me. It's shut off.
I think I'll be stalking this guy to his church... (to be fair, the priest did tell me that just showing up to church might be a good strategy). YARGH.