Today is the first of the Fridays I have off over the summer; Babson operates on a 4 day work week for June, July, and a bit of August. We work longer days during the week, and take slightly shorter lunches, but it's not a bad trade for a three day weekend. And how am I spending my first Friday off?

I'm in my office.

No, I'm not doing work or cleaning my desk (though it needs it badly), but rather am goofing off after coming back to campus and not wanting to tackle the hill yet (for reasons I'll expound upon presently).

Here's how my first day off's gone so far:

6:35 AM Alarm clock goes off. As usual, Sarah asks for another 15 minutes, so I reset the alarm. OK, it's not all Sarah where the extra time is concerned.

6:50 AM Alarm goes off again. We don't actually get up quite yet, but who really jumps right out of bed first thing?

7:10 AM Finally underway, Sarah getting ready for work, me getting ready to not work.

7:25 AM Tune into the England-Argentina match. As much ribbing as I give Sarah about being English, I actually like their side. My only real beef with English soccer is Manchester United, and that's only come from their being in league with the Yankees for cross-marketing and the like.

My rooting interest is further cemented by my general disdain for the Argentines, who are very good but leave me a little cold. I've also never been a fan of Maradona's, for all his brilliance, given his personal issues and ego. I can't say I dislike any of the current Argentine players, but I do marvel at how many of them have Italian or German sounding names (first or last).

For all the talk about David Beckham (Mr. Posh Spice) and his injury, it's Michael Owen, the teen sensation from France 1998 who is impressive. He sends a ball of the post early, tortures defenders all evening, and draws the foul that Beckham converts just before the half to give England the 1-0 lead they'd hold to take the win.

Argentina, for all the talk about them being the favorite to win, don't look that good. They do press very well in the second half, but send most of their shots well over the crossbar or wider than Scott Norwood's nighmares.

This being the "group of death," this win is momentous... for about a minute. Then you remember that Sweden topped Nigeria, eliminating the Super Eagles. Sweden and England both have 4 points, Argentina 3. Sweden plays Argentina in the last match, and have very little motivation to go beyond a tie- that gives them 5 points and a quarterfinal berth. Same goes for England against Nigeria, who would probably just like the point so they don't risk finishing last. A tie only gives Argentina 4 points and an early exit (barring a Nigerian upset of England and the tibreaks working out).

9:30 AM A solid block of goofing off. Some TV, some computer (currently playing a lot of Word Racer on Yahoo), the usual.

11:04 AM Shower. OK, it may not have been 11:04 AM exactly, but this isn't a deposition.

11:45 AM Arrange a taxi to go to my doctor's appointment. I'd tried this once before, only to have the cab not show. I make sure the dispatcher knows where I am and how to get here before hanging up.

12:00 PM Random lunch and an episode of The Twilight Zone- a guy's going to be executed at 9:30 AM, but it's pitch black out. Turns out that everywhere that hate flourishes (such as this little town), it's dark and getting darker. An OK episode.

12:45 PM Cab to the doctor's office. Nothing special, but if there's no rain I'm walking back. I kind of feel like a chump taking a cab for the mile and a quarter to the office.

1:10 PM Check in with the receptionist and start filling out forms. Not too many, thankfully.

2:35 PM Dr. David Wenzel introduces himself. Just as Sarah and I have been fishing for a church out here, I've been looking for a new primary care physician. I'd been using my respiratory doctor for that purpose since high school, and given my current location that didn't seem to make sense (not that it made much sense when I was in Boston, but I also had the house in Manchester to go to and from). Went to a doctor over at Harvard Vangaurd, but didn't care for the facility. A very typical HMO sort of experience.

That was not the case today, but given that I'd asked for a physical (my first real physical in some time) I figured that it'd be a process. And it was, with all the attendant poking, prodding, coughing, and what have you to go with it. Those of you who know the movie Fletch may be glad to note that at no point did I have cause to sing "Moon River."

Before any of this, though, the doctor asked me a litany of questions to get my background. Going through my family medical history was a real treat, as it reminded me just how much loss I've had up to this point.

Got some blood taken, and opposed to all the horror stories from people who get butchered and have a nice bruise on the inside of their elbow for a week, I barely even felt the needle. Heck, I don't even think I really needed the band-aid to cover the hole (well, there is a speck of blood). Also got an EKG, which took more time to set up than administer.

At this point, things seem OK with me other than weight, though the doctor was more concerned about activity.

I really like this doctor. Finally!

2:47 I'm out of the office, armed with samples of Singulair, a once-a-day tablet for asthma. We're going to see how this goes. I take one a day before bed. The doctor suggested going off of inhalers after about a week (but still have them around if needed), which is where the fun will begin.

Rain stopped, so I'm walking back. It's not a bad walk, pretty much straight line with only one real hill, and even that's not too big. You can tell I live in a town where people don't walk because every other house has a tree or shrubbery that's growing out into the sidewalk. I get to dodge any number of leaves, branches, and fronds on the walk, wondering if next time I should bring a saw.

There's a 4 way intersection right where the school begins, and as I cross, the car coming across the way doesn't wait for me, but rather drives around me. This pisses me off, as (a) being the pedestrian, I have the right of way, (b) in Massachusetts, it's state law that a driver must stop for a person in a crosswalk, and (c) it's just plain rude. Like the guy couldn't wait five seconds for me to get across his lane?

I've given some thought to getting a bike or a moped or some sort of locally useful conveyance, but probably won't. I dislike the idea that I could be riding down the streets here while some overworked financial analyst or soccer mom who's too busy talking to another soccer mom on a cell phone steers their two and a half tons of steel and chrome into my back.

3:12 PM I'm at the campus center, walk took about 20 minutes, putting me well in the normal 3-3.5 mph walking pace. Got a drink, grabbed the mail, and got into the office. Where I'm now figuratively talking to you nice people.

Not much else on tap for the day. Some dinner, probably rent a movie. At some point we have to make banana pudding for a dinner party, but that may wait for tomorrow.

In other news, my plan to get rich by betting on the World Cup has gone completely awry. Did Jon Couture's example teach me nothing? I had Denmark, Uruguay, and Paraguay to win. Got two ties and a loss for my trouble. Paraguay was a reach, based on Chilavert's return. Uruguay presented good odds. But Denmark only tying Senegal? That was my biggest bet, and it hurt.

Time to get back on the phone and check the damage.