Quiet Friday

Libby back at work today. Says she is fine. Her mouth just hurts a little and only if she Moves it. Urge her to rest her jaw. She does, but this doesn't stop her from bringing in tall stacks of papers--forms, teaching application letters, the overdue budget document, and the galleys for the course schedule. Feel that afternoon spent actually underneath the papers. At three, go downstairs to drop off important forms in the dean's office. Am alarmed and chagrined to hear from three people in quick succession, Have a Nice Weekend, as they are headed out of doors and I am headed back up to my office. As am now, technically a sub-boss, tell Libby that maybe we ought to leave early today. Say four. She gives me an icy look. Why? she asks. Why indeed. Go back into office.