dog and guilt

I'm at Ground Zero reading about embodiment, working on a post I started yesterday about it. My battery is about dead (metaphorically and literally), and I need to go home, take the dogs out, eat, then leave again and go to work until 4-ish, come home, take the dogs out, meet a friend for dinner, go home, take the dogs out, and go to bed. Tomorrow I start earlier, get snacks for class, present for an hour at 8am, go to a search committee interview at 9-12, eat, work, class until 7pm, go home. And Seymour will be pissed at me for being unattentive. How nice.