The Second Law of Thermodynamics

In one way or another, we have to strive against the second law of thermodynamics: Entropy.
Energy travels a downhill pathway.
Everything deteriorates toward the disorganized.
In the last three days I've had vivid occasion to be reminded of the two principles of this law.
Entropy has caught up with me.

On Wednesday, I helped my two college-students, Elijah and Claye, move home for the summer. In the driving rain. (Well it wasn't very good for driving in, but carrying clothes, mini refrigerators, book bags, and another thirty pots in--that was worse) There is now a pile of Elijah's dirty clothes in the laundry room about waist high. Claye's room is swamped with art supplies. We have to clean the garage so we'll have room to store it all for the summer, while she goes back for summer school. Entropy

It was my last week of school also--quarter tests, reviews, semester tests, awards ceremonies, banquets, the end of school picnics, graduation: All over. I'm left with a stack of papers to grade about six inches high. (Something to do while I work on laundry)

This year, our end of school picnic was held at the zoo, about an hour and a half from our school. I didn't ride the bus, but drove, since I was carrying my two grandchildren and their car seats.
There were sixty schools at the zoo yesterday and about five thousand children, not counting all the parents, grandparents, and our own group of secondary students. The lines were long.
The animals, however, were in fine form, posing majestically against their carefully manicured habitats, and there is something refreshing about listening to the excited reactions of a four year old and a two year old as they see new sights and ride trains and carousels. Claye came along to help with the little ones, and my junior high students lent their hands as well. It was great fun. We walked uphill everywhere and never downhill. (Well, that last part can't have been true but it seemed like it.) All day, my energy traveled a downhill pathway. I barely made graduation, and this morning my hands are swollen and my bones ache.

As I hoisted myself out of bed, ruefully contemplated my oddly sunburned nose, surveyed my neglected, highly-disorganized house, sadly noted my empty refrigerator, frowned at the stack of screaming mail, I reminded myself that it was summer---time to rest for a little spell; this work will all get done when my bones have recovered.

I'm blaming the second law of Thermodynamics.