Two Measures of Having Completed the Exhibit

The twelve white cotton gloves, freshly removed from the washer and dryer, that sit on my kitchen counter, waiting to be returned to the museum (this is where I refrain from the rant about how gendered the museum director--oops, I mean exhibit designer, curator, fabricator, collections manager, custodian, receptionist--portion of my job is #)@_%_*&^%$ !). And that would be for the equivalent of one course release.

A refrigerator FULL of once perfectly good food that has now passed its expiration date because, well, yours truly has had no life outside of 8am-midnight work days (often 8 am - 9 pm on the jobsite--not to mention the writing and editing done at home Sun-Sat) for weeks and weeks and weeks.