At School

[copied from dland]

I am typing with gloves on, which means hunt-and-peck, so it's slow-going. The library is without heat today, and the temperature outside is 18, up from 15 an hour or two ago. I wasn't here in the library all morning because I was proctoring a test in another room, but when I came back around noon, I heard the proctor in here tell the kids that if there's no heat tomorrow, he'll bring them someplace else. (Which should be interesting, since I was told emphatically that there was no place else; that's why they're using the library. But I digress.) I'm wearing my warmest sweater, and long-johns under my jeans, and currently have my jacket -- zipped -- , gloves, scarf, and hat on. And a space heater blowing in my face. And my nose is frozen. It's actually 50-something in here, which is too cold for people to sit in. I had a kid here with medical problems; I sent her to the nurse's office. I don't know what to do now, although I called and left a message for the principal to come up and see what it's like here.

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Later, at home.

The principal did not come up to share the joy that is the library, but the head custodian -- who, I guess, gets into his office more easily than the head librarian -- went down and pleaded our case. There was at one point today a heating engineer in the library; the bottom line is that they don't know what's wrong. On paper -- on readouts, actually -- it's a balmy 68 in the library and everything is working fine.

Enough of that.

So I came home and K wasn't feeling well; she had left work a little early and had stopped to pick up some chicken soup and was already napping. She seems a little better now. I went out again in the cold to get a few things for her and picked up some lottery tickets while I was out, so maybe tomorrow, I will be the mega-millionaire! Hey, it's gotta be someone, sooner or later. If I win, there's a big diary-con in it for you guys, on me.

I just had my White Bean Pesto for dinner, a bit of a disappointing meal, although the pesto itself wasn't bad. I bought whole wheat spaghetti the other day, only to discover when I reached for the box just before that one end was opened and taped shut. Ew. Since no one ever tapes a pasta box shut in this house, and no one else would eat whole wheat pasta, that means I bought it that way, so I dumped it. I had some whole wheat penne in the house, so I tried that. Did not love it. And the nutrition values on the box came out to more points than WW said it would be, which is what I planned on. So I feel totally gypped here.

Speaking of which, is that a bad word now? I guess it must be. To say that one had been "gypped", does that have the same ethnic affront connotation as saying that one has been "jewed down" on a price? If so, I deeply apologize. I think I've gone through this particular crisis of conscience before, but memory being what it is, I'm not sure. It's a word that I didn't even get the ethnic connection to until not all that long ago, which is no excuse, I suppose, but an explanation. Must. Work. On. Vocabulary.

The coffee in my new machine was actually pretty good this morning. I've got it set up to try it with the DD coffee tomorrow, at least for my first cup at home. Once I see how that comes out, I'll see what to put in my thermos. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call minutiae.

I have no idea what to wear tomorrow. And I can't believe April is only a few weeks away! And we're changing the clocks this weekend! Nothing makes sense anymore!


WATCHING REBA :: ENTRY #1393