Dean sighed, more softly this time, less exasperated. "I'm always in the same spot." He wasn't the one who kept disappearing. The election this year was starting to eat up a lot of his free time, so he was busy, but he was always right here, every night. There were extra hours and long days, sure, but he hadn't the energy to be doing anything else but translating or Don Juan. He wasn't burnt out, but he was tired.

Maybe that was part of the problem. He always found his temper was shorter when he was tired, which wasn't Don Juan's fault. He forced himself to relax his muscles, to unclench his hands on his knees. The document was mostly done, he could finish at work in the morning, and clean up the first half. "Next Friday?"