Tick Tock

8:51 am in the library. I'm either about to make a wonderful discovery, or a disaster is about to strike. Hold on .....

8:59. No disaster, anyway; discovery remains to be seen. I just used the pod coffeemaker to make a cup of tea. Since the tea bags aren't the same size and shape as a pod -- I used two tea bags -- I thought there might suddenly be boiling hot water shooting out from everywhere, but no, just a little leaking into the base, where it's supposed to go. Whether or not the tea tastes like tea or coffee, I'll let you know after it cools down a bit.

Again this morning, I had to go head to head with the powers that be over the most foolish thing: they need to provide me reasonable access to a bathroom. Why is this so freaking hard for them? The bathroom right downstairs from the library has had its lock removed, so it's no longer usable. They need to find me another alternative, and quick. The medications I'm taking are not making things easy for me this week; in fact, one of the main reasons I stayed home last Friday was not because of the cough or the cold, but to be near the bathroom. Seems like it should be a basic human rights thing, eh? It's not like I'm toiling in a remote rice paddy is southeast Asia, this is New Jersey, for god's sake. People have bathrooms here, we pretty much expect it.

9:13 am. Good tea.

It's a quiet day here, although busy. I have a class scheduled into the computer lab every period of the day, but nothing I have to teach. I'm still putting off my shelf-shifting project, but I do have to check shelves for books that may or may not be overdue, and then send out the notices.

And I may just go make another cup of tea. I generally only like very ordinary tea, green or black, decaf, but I brought in a container of pink grapefruit green tea in a can, I forget who makes it, you know, the people who put overpriced interestingly flavored teas in tall cans. I don't know how long we had this one at home, but I'll give it a shot.

I just found out that there's no coverage for lunch today, so the library has to close that period. I need to go change the sign at the door, hold on ....

10:02 am. Today is the third of the three days set aside for seniors to review their college essays with English teachers, something they do in the library. Today is also the second day that our computer network has decided not to let anyone login to Hotmail or Yahoomail. Swell. And of course, kids who finished their essays at home last night emailed them to themselves for easy printing once they got to the library. So I just logged into a girl's Hotmail account on my iPhone and forwarded her essay to both my school and personal email accounts -- guess which one never arrived -- and printed it out for her. Oh yes, we're very high tech here. What amused me was that the girl's password was one of those that I use often, and that this was a girl to whom I think I am somehow distantly related through the Hubs. (I have no idea how, but the Hubs' Aunt Marie calls them cousins, and maintains a connection with them, so I guess there's something, unless it's one of those Italian cousins-that-aren't-really-blood-related thing, which is common.) Does that make my iPhone deductible as a business expense?

10:38 am. I've got a class of goofballs with a goofball teacher in the computer lab, taking up about half of the available stations, and I've got a serious science teacher with a serious class in the library's main room, where there are about half as many computers as he needs. What's wrong with this picture?

Time for more tea. (It's Republic of Tea, btw. A pink canister that supports breast cancer research, or something; I remember that K bought this tea once and it was outrageously expensive. I'm generally happy with store-brand tea, although I do use Celestial Seasonings green decaf for the iced tea that I mainline when I'm at home.) I'll let you know in a few minutes.

11:09 am Word on the street is that the authorization has come down to put the lock back on the bathroom door, which should be done within the half hour. Yay! Victory is mine!

(Good tea. Mild green tea, no taste of grapefruit, pink or otherwise. Huh.)

1:23 pm, back from lunch. There's a lock on the bathroom door! I saw it with my own eyes! YAAAAAAAAAAY!

They just made a school-wide announcement about what kinds of costumes are appropriate for seniors to wear for Halloween tomorrow, so that's pretty much anything that's fun or interesting is out. It's really remarkable. Nothing military or political. Nothing with liquids or food. Nothing that conotates violence or alcohol or drugs. Nothing that might be demeaning to any other person. Ad infinitum.

I get it. Of course we don't want to demean anyone and all that. But seriously, this just sucks all the fun right out of it, I think. Let's do it right or let's not do it at all.

2:03 pm. I'm so sleepy! I don't think I've been sleepy at work more than once or twice this year, but right now, I just want to close my eyes. And I have a few things to do after school, too, but I'll probably be awake by then. I can leave here in an hour. It's not soon enough.




watching L/O :: ENTRY #2131
READING: --- by ---

It Lives!

I'm taking it easy today, doctor's orders, but I'm at work. She told me to stay home, but I honestly don't feel sick enough to stay home, and I don't have that many sick days racked up to spare. It turns out that when you're taking an immune-suppressing med, as I am, and then you get a cold, you need to get antibiotics right away so it doesn't morph into something worse. Unfortunately, no one mentioned this to me, so it's been a week of having a cold, I thought, with a throat that got more and more sore every day until yesterday I went to the doctor. So there I am, or rather, here I am. She did tell me to stay home and rest, but I'd rather be at work and rest, as it were. Really, I don't feel that bad, and I'm drinking tea.

Ahhh, tea. The great inspection of the school was last week, and within 24 hours, all of us had our microwaves, coffeemakers, and whatnot back in place. This is working out great for me. On the first day of the week, I brought in enough for lunch for the whole week (yogurts, cheese, ice tea) and put it in the fridge, and at lunchtime now I can heat up a single-serving of soup of something, of which I also brought a week's worth. So I didn't have to carry anything at all to school with me today, I love that.

Nothing new in my life except an excess of illness and a scarcity of money, what else is new. My frame of mind is good, though, and for some reason, I Have more energy than I've had in five years. I wonder what's up with that. And this was even before I started the newer meds that I'm on.

What I'm doing here is not nothing, actually, it's just not strenuous. I had no classes scheduled to teach today, although the library is booked all day for classes who've already had instruction and are continuing their work, so I'm here for random help with that. I have a big project that involves shifting books from shelf to shelf to balance space, but I'm leaving that for another day. I did completely re-do my shelf-top book displays, though, since that was only standing and walking around for me, and it was fun.

Later.

I'm home. Still don't feel too terrible, although I'm debating when to take more Advil. I'm not supposed to take it at all, but it really, really helps, and last night was most uncomfortable until I took it. I'll see if I can hold out an hour or so, so it'll last until I fall asleep. But my ears are starting to hurt again.

I was supposed to be at physical therapy now, my last appointment, but they called and canceled, for a change. I never got to go last week, either, but I'm doing the stretches at home, and I think they help. These people have the oddest scheduling practices I've ever seen, which I wont' go into, but I ended up with about half as many sessions as I was supposed to.

I am so tired of talking about my health, thinking about my health. The only thing I can say, and I've said it to a few people, is this: I do not intend to let this become my life. I don't want it to stop me. (I mean, of course, it will stop me from doing some things. That Mt. Everest climb is off now, for good.) Here are my goals: when I want to (and can afford it) I will go to Disney World. Nothing is going to keep my from doing that. And I want to be a grandma, and I plan to be a good one. Nothing will keep me from lifting and carrying babies, when the time comes. I expect to be a hands-on grandma, and my kids want me to be that, too, so nothing is going to get in the way of that. (I promise not to cough all over the babies, though. I won't be hands on when I have plague, like I do now.)

Okay, enough of that shit. I have to talk and think about other things. I have to write more, and about other things, so this doesn't consume me. (I'll give you occasional updates, though, because, y'know, every new episode with me does have some amusement value, at least so far. That nasty rash is a little better, btw, in case you were wondering.)

Okay, so, post.





watching SUPERNANNY :: ENTRY #2130
READING: --- by ---

Don't Mind Me

I'll just sit over here at my desk and moan softly. It's 2:45, and I forgot to get to the ladies' room before the bell rang, which is to say, when there was someone else here. Now, I've got about two dozen kids in the library, and I can't go anywhere until it's time to go home, so that's in about twenty minutes.

Oh, and I have just a bit of plague.

I don't think it's even the flu, just the first stages of a cold. I've had a dry cough all day (I know, flu), and a stuffy nose, and now some scratchy throat. I don't have a fever, I think, but I've been on the tylenol every-four-hour routine anyway, so there isn't going to be a fever. And I'm always achy and I always have chills. But I think it's just a cold. Anyway, I need to be in school tomorrow because I -- let's face it -- bullied some people into coming to a training session after school, so I need to be here. Friday, however, I won't come in unless I feel better. I could use a day of drinking tea and watching old movies whilst buried under my cozy down-like throw.

I don't know if I mentioned this, but you know, teenage type kids are notorious for not listening to what you tell them and ignoring all sound advice, but I swear, every damn one of them coughs or sneezes into the elbow, as opposed to in the air or in their hands. I don't know how this message was universally sent and received, maybe it went out over all iPods and cell phones, but I'm actually astounded at how many of them -- all of them -- are doing this right. I mean, it's not as if they all walk on the right side of the corridor or the stairs, it's not as if they listen to any other rule that's been laid down, or even suggested. And this age group is also well-known for their "it won't happen to me" philosophy, but I guess they're actively trying to avoid the flu. Interesting.

Ten minutes. Tick, tick, tick ... I shall finish from home.

Home. I canceled PT myself today; the therapist doesn't need me coughing in his face. I could hear the receptionist on the edge of telling me that she was going to charge me for canceling so late, but since she canceled yesterday and the day before on about ten minutes notice, she didn't have the chutzpah. Which is good, because I would have blown a fuse.

So I have a bit of a tummy ache and not much appetite. I'm noshing on crackers, though, because I don't want to take any meds on an empty stomach.

I'm going to go pack my lunch for tomorrow *sigh* and take out clothes.



watching GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2129
READING: --- by ---

Surreality

The last few days have been interesting, in a way, not necessarily a good way, but, as my title says, here and there surreal.

To begin with, I had an ordinary check-up after school on Friday. This is my least favorite of all my doctors, and she should be my most favorite: the one who ties it all together, the one who has my back in a sea of specialists. She's not. She addresses the questions I ask her and treats what I present her with. She manages my basic medications. She's okay, but she's not a world-beater. In the past, when I've asked her about something -- for example, the tender spots on my head -- she always gives me a definitive answer, in that case, something about pinched nerves. She's very sure of herself. Of course, to the rheumatologist, this was a definitive marker of fibromyalgia. Whatever.

So, two things. I have a rash ... well ... let's just say sub-bosom. You big girls out there know what I mean. It's ... icky. Anyway, I had mentioned it to the rh'ologist on Monday, just in case it was a side effect of the med -- it's not -- and he asked if I wanted a prescription for it. Nah, I said, I'm seeing the other doctor on Friday, she can give me something. Here's what she said "It looks better, so keep using the cornstarch." Better than what, lady, you never saw this before. "Keep using" the cornstarch? Was I using cornstarch?

Anyway, I also mentioned to her that the rh'ologist said he would give me pain med if I wanted it, and I had decided to stop being a martyr, so she gave me what he was going to give me, which was fine. I took it Friday night before I went to sleep.

Cue the psychedelic lights and twirly things and the in and out zoom. I slept a little oddly, and woke up with not much pain in my arms and legs and back, but possible THE WORST headache I have ever had. Even so, I was in an oddly upbeat mood, and didn't let it bother me. I even drove, which may not have been wise, but no harm, no foul. I felt very much pebbled, as we used to say back in the seventies. (A little stoned.)

I lay down for a nap in the afternoon with the TV on, to "How It's Made" on Discovery Science, or something. It's little factory tours that show how a highlighter is made, and other things; I love that stuff. Anyway, I drifted into about three hours of short hops between this dimension and any number of others. I would fall asleep for 30 seconds and wake up, in the meantime, hallucinating the connection between the last thing I saw and what was on now. Did you know, for example, that sailboards (which are like surfboards, but with sails) are made in a secret facility in Nazi Germany, and that the entire process is overseen by my second-grade crush, Billy Glendenning? I never knew that before either. I couldn't get out of it; I couldn't wake up and I couldn't fall asleep. But it was entertaining.

Around dinner time, I decided to screw the whole thing and I took an Advil. Four hours later, I took two. Finally, no headache, but I still didn't sleep that well. Sunday was a similar day, but I couldn't nap at all, and was up and down all night last night, hot and cold, wide awake and drowsy, TV on, TV off. I had taken a half of the pain pill yesterday morning, but nothing last night or today. I'll wait a couple of days and then try a half again and see what it does.

I never even got dressed yesterday, never even put on a bra, which means I was absolutely not leaving the house nor was I accepting visitors. I was lucky I got my eyes to focus at all. I didn't read, didn't do much else. But I wasn't unhappy, either. K kept saying she was bored all day, but I was too lalalalala to be be bored.

We're having an emergency drill at school tomorrow, which involves evacuating the building and going someplace where we can account for all the kids. Talk about a bore. I've already arranged to hitch a ride back to the building with the nurse if the walk out there is too much for me. (I'll be bringing my cane on the adventure.)

A little later ...

Hmm. I went to physical therapy, which turned out to be an appointment they had kindly re-scheduled for tomorrow, a phone message I got as I was parking the car in their lot. In the meantime, I was noticing that when I sat in the car, the seatback against my back hurt. And then when I was walking around, my shirt moving over my back also hurt. At first I thought, Now that's odd, and then, with a giant duh, I realized that this must be a fibromyalgia thing. Even on the commercials for the fibro drugs, it says that it hurts to be touched, but I had only experienced that before on the specific tender spots. Looks like fun years ahead for me, boys and girls.

We did do a little food shopping, since the PT was canceled, so I have lunch for the week. Which is already packed for tomorrow. Now I have to pick out clothes for spending most of the afternoon outside tomorrow, but it's supposed to be in the sixties, I think, so I really have no idea.

BTW, I'm not really reading either of the books I have listed down there. Maybe someday, but I'm not reading at all lately, too foggy at night to read.





watching FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #2128
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan
READING: Reading Lolita in Teheran by Azar Nafisi

Grownup Meme

Courtesy of the Empress.

1. What bill do you hate paying the most?
Every damn one of them.
2. Do you miss being a child?
Yes and no. I'm not thinking about it full-time, but yes, I have fond memories of childhood. Not so much adolescence. I wouldn't do that again for a million bucks.
3. Chore you hate the most?
Paying bills, I think. (See #1)
4. Where was the last place you had a romantic dinner?
Likewise, not in this century. So long ago that I don't remember.
5. If you could go back and change one thing what would it be?
These days, I'm thinking it's that I would have been less short-tempered and snide to my mother.
6. Name of your first grade teacher?
Miss Croghan, whom I recall as a very young and very uptight anti-Semite. I can name all my elementary school teachers, and probably 7 - 12 as well. She's the only elementary school teacher I don't have fond memories of.
7. What do you really want to be doing right now?
I need to get my lunch together for tomorrow, and my clothes. What I want is to be blissfully asleep.
8. What did you want to be when you grew up?
After I got over the cowgirl phase, courtesy of the Mickey Mouse Club western days, the only thing I ever wanted to be was a teacher.
9. How many colleges did you attend?
Three. First two years undergraduate at the University of Maryland. Last two years undergraduate and second master's degree at Montclair State College (then)/University (now.) First master's degree (in library science) at Rutgers University.
10. Why did you choose the shirt that you have on right now?
I like the color (sage green) and it feels soft.
11. What are your thoughts on gas prices?
I rarely look at the prices. I need gas, so I get it, and I usually go to the station near my house where they've never lost my gas cap. (I've lost two of them at other stations.) In general, the prices are obscene.
12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?
For the first alarm and the two following snoozes: NOOOOOOOOO!
13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?
Hmm. Probably, I hope I feel asleep right now.
14. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Let's see. I'm going to limit it to famous person currently living. Hmmm ... no, dead. Shakespeare.
15. Have you ever crashed your vehicle?
I've been in accidents, and all but one of those was someone else hitting me. Relatively little damage; I've never totaled a car. Does that count?
16. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer?
I'd like to, if I could. I used to think I would volunteer to read stories and entrtain children at the children's cancer center nearby. Now I'm thinking that I'd like to start by boxing and stocking items at the local food pantry.
17. Get up early or sleep in?
On school days, the first alarm goes off at 5:50 in the a.m. Otherwise, if I'm un-disturbed, I can sleep til a good 9:00 most days. It's delicious.
18. What is your favorite cartoon character?
It would certainly have to be Mickey Mouse. Quick Draw McGraw runs a close second.
19. Favorite thing to do at night with a guy/girl?
Like on a date? Wait, let me get in my time machine and go back and check.
20. When did you first start feeling old?
When I started to ache all over, and when my arms weren't long enough to hold a back as far as I needed it to be to read it.
21. Favorite lunch meat?
I like pastrami, but never have it for lunch. I like ham and sometimes bologna.
22. What do you get every time you go into WalMart?
I've only been in a Walmart once or twice in my life, and have no plans to go back.
23. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual?
No, not at all.
24. Favorite movie you wouldn't want anyone to find out about?
I like a lot of movies, and am not generally embarrassed about any of them. The other night I recorded Toby Tyler, or, Ten Weeks With the Circus, a Disney classic. (I had a tremendous crush on Kevin Corcoran.)
25. What's your favorite drink?
I love coffee. I'm also fond of root beer.
26. Who[m] from high school would you like to run in to?
Anybody? I don't think so.
27. What radio station is your car radio tuned to right now?
CBS-FM, the New York City oldies station, for the last 30 years or so.
28. “Sopranos” or “Desperate Housewives?”
Neither, although I watched the first three and last three episodes of The Sopranos. I've never seen a minute of Desperate Housewives.
29. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?
I can think of a few, but probably writing that "Dear John" letter to the Hubs when we were in college.
30. Do you like the person that sits directly across from/next to you at work?
No such person anymore. I wasn't so keen on the SCM, who retired in January. I will endlessly miss the Colleague, who used to be the library secretary.
31. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purposes?
No.
32. Last book you finished reading?
I don't even remember. Wait a minute ... it's been weeks, apparently. The Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell.
33. Do you have a teddy bear?
My old teddy bear, which my sister gave me for my 14th birthday, is around someplace. I do have some very old toys, but my babyhood stuffed animals are long gone. (I had a sock monkey named Jocko instead of an actual teddy bear, and a clown thing -- can't remember what those were called.)(A few minutes later: it was a Jingle Bell Jack that my mother made for me.)
34. One thing you couldn't live without?
At this point, probably medical attention.
35. Do you go to church?
Never, although it would be a synagogue for me, but not that either. I wasn't raised to.
36. How old are you?
56
37. Can you take apart a motor, put it back together, and have no extra parts?
Please. At one point, I could do all kinds of things with computers, but motors are not my friends.
38. Are you for or against the death penalty?
I'm going to go with against, although it does seem that there are some people who don't deserve to live after crimes they've committed. It just shouldn't be up to me, or anyone else, to make that judgement.
39. If there is a God and you could ask him/her one question what would it be?
I'm pretty sure there isn't. If I had that hypothetical opportunity, however, it would probably be "Why?"
40. Do you think it’s possible that there is life on other planets?
I'll use the empress's exact answer: Not only possible but probable.







watching FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #2128
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan
READING: Reading Lolita in Teheran by Azar Nafisi

Still Spinnning

Actually, lately I've been afloat in a sea of Mad Men, season one last weekend and seasons two and three this weekend just past, mixed in with a visit to the ILs. Good to be with the whole family. Not good to see him declining, very sad.

Perhaps the new meds I'm taking are helping. I had to stop physical therapy last week because the work on my neck triggered some way serious tinnitus, pounding in my head so loud -- not painful, just loud -- that I couldn't keep count of the exercises I was doing. And then the PT said he wouldn't touch me anymore until the doctor cleared it, because that was too weird for him. It's about 2:20 now as I'm writing; I have a meeting after school at the central office (which is to say, not in my school building) and then the doctor at 3:40. After which I'm going to run by Old Navy because I have nothing -- nothing, I tell you -- to wear.

All is well with me and the Sibs, until our next phone call anyway. (Just kidding.) All is well with other family members, as far as I can see (except the above-mentioned FIL.) All is well with therapy, which, thank god for. And lexapro. I like the lexapro.

As for me physically, perhaps the pain is less; it's hard to say. It's at its worst at night, anyway, so for now, mid-afternoon, it's very manageable. My head does seem to be cloudy whenever I sit down to write, although I'm coping well enough with everything else, not bummed, work is good except for the foolishness, which is not quite over, but almost.

Dang. I always think I have a lot to say, but then I put my hands on the keyboard and poof!

Oh, here's something. I've become a total GPS slut. I don't have a GPS as such, but I got an app -- there's an app for that, you know -- that works pretty well. How do I know that, since I rarely go anyplace I haven't already been? By turning on the GPS app when I'm going someplace I have already been. It's funnier that way. You know, the man in the iPhone says "Turn left. Turn left. Turn left." and I say "NO! I know where I'm going!" or some such foolishness. The Hubs and I very much enjoyed the man in the iPhone to and from his folks yesterday, especially each time he said "G - AR - den state PAR - kway." Okay, it's not the same in print. It was funny.

I'm home, it's six, I can go back to physical therapy on Wednesday, and I even got some corduroys at Old Navy. Score.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2127
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan
READING: Reading Lolita in Teheran by Azar Nafisi

I'm This Guy

watching THE MIDDLE :: ENTRY #2127
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan
READING: Reading Lolita in Teheran by Azar Nafisi

Day Late, Dollar Short. Something Like That.

I wrote this yesterday at school and totally forgot about it when I got home.

When I put on my jacket yesterday morning, I reached into the left pocket and there was a genetically altered Jolly Rancher deep, deep in the pocket which had morphed into something only recognizable by the shredded remains of the wrapper. It was bright blue, and I couldn't imagine at first what this sticky goo on my fingers was, but now I know, and I think I have to spend the weekend figuring out some way to get it the hell out of there.

I don't want to move to Arizona, or anywhere, really, which brings up something I've always wondered about: why do we all live where we do? Even where there are extremes of weather or frequent natural disasters? Is it inertia that keeps us where we are because we're already there? I get it that people move for jobs and like that, but what keeps us where we keep?

As for me, New Jersey is where my parents moved when they left the city -- the Bronx, in New York City -- in the mid-fifties. And most of the family is still relatively close, so I suppose that's why I'm here. But let me talk about the weather some.

It's hot in the summer, and humid, but not deathly hot and humid like Florida. It's cold in the winter, but it's not the Yukon. Hey, it's not even New England. We get their nor'easters here every so often, and a few times each decade we wake up to two or three feet of snow. But then life stops, no one has to go out in it, and we move on. Hurricanes? Yes, we do get hurricanes, and have had several severe ones in my fifty-plus years, but nothing like they get farther south. Earthquakes. I may have told my earthquake story before -- I'm not telling it now; I'll save it for another time -- but the reality is that although there are occasional mild earthquakes, I have only ever once been aware of one happening. Tornadoes have happened in north Jersey more in recent years, but again, never close to me and I have never seen one. Floods. Yes, there are many places here that flood, just like everyplace else with rivers nearby. B-Town is in a little pocket between two rivers, one of them very small, and so parts of town get minor flooding all the time, and bigtime flooding with evacuations when there's a hurricane. Forest fires? Way too humid for that, most of the time, and not so much in the way of forests left around here. New Jersey's biggest forest is the Pine Barrens in south Jersey -- you may recall this from The Sopranos; it's where they disposed of bodies -- but it's too humid there for a serious conflagration.

So the funny thing is that weather-wise, it's not so bad here. And no, it does not smell. New Jersey does not smell, despite the popular belief to the contrary. Of course there is somewhere in New Jersey that smells, just like anywhere else. Unfortunately for our reputation, that stretch of nasty smelling road is on the New Jersey Turnpike, where there are lots of oil refineries and swamps just before you get to New York City. The rest of the state smells mostly like pine, or tomatoes and strawberries, or here in B-Town, oreos. (We have a big Nabisco factory in town.)

And so. I met with the boss this morning and progress is being made on my library situation, although I'm not sure exactly what or exactly when. Our new vice-principal was involved in some part of it, and let me tell you, he is absolutely a sweetheart, but he is in so way over his head, he won't see air for years.

My neck is very sore from the exercises I've been doing, but sore like after exercise, not sore like my vertebrae want to go on vacation and not hold my head up any more. An improvement, perhaps.I'll be taking my second dose of the new medicine tomorrow, so maybe then I'll start to see some improvement there.

It's Friday, something I very much enjoy, and R and the GF are coming by for a visit tomorrow. And maybe I can sleep in a little.





watching ---- :: ENTRY #2126
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan
READING: Reading Lolita in Teheran by Azar Nafisi

Cold, Heat, and Diminished Capacity

Picture it: the family room, last night.

K had subbed at the high school yesterday, and we were talking about some kids here and there, and she said, with a chuckle: "Youth is wasted on the young."

And I said "Oh, Grandma used to say that all the time when I was a kid. I was so insulted, until I got old enough to get it. It wasn't original with her, you know."

She nodded.

"Hmm," I said. "I think it was George Bernard Shaw. How do I know that?" And I looked it up and damn, it was George Bernard Shaw who said it. Yes, this is my nature as a librarian, to know such things, but let us gently fade out on last night and fade in on this morning. (With a very soft focus lens. I was in the shower.)

And I thought to myself, for some reason, that I wanted to see if I could remember the names of the conditions I have, because the knee thing, especially, keeps escaping me. So I thought, okay, what I have in my back is .... symbiosis, and what I have in my knee is ... acoustic nervosa?

Um ... no. So I tried to remember something else, someone's name -- I forget now what it was -- and I made up something for that, too.

An hour later, I realized sadly as I was leaving the house that I actually needed to put on a jacket of some kind, it was that chilly outside. :< I don't like the cold; I've been saying more or less since birth that I hate the cold, I hate it like poison. When my kids were little and we would go out on a cold day, I would say "I hate the cold!" and they would say nothing, so I would prompt "How do I hate the cold?" and they would chorus in bored unison: "Like poison." So this is an established fact. But I also hate bulk, and will put off wearing any kind of jacket as far into the season as I can.

Shortly after that, I think on the short ride from Dunkin" Donuts to the high school, during which I customarily consume a small egg and cheese wrap, I thought to myself: "Huh. Spondylitis in the back. Avascular necrosis in the knee. Okay." And I remembered the name then too, although I forgot it again now.

3:15. I walk into the house -- from outside, where it's cold -- and think Damn, it's cold in here! Now, the Hubs is well-known for having no temperature sensing cells in his body, but K was huddled on the couch in the family room wearing a jacket, socks, and hat. So I says to the Hubs, I says, I know this is a crazy question to ask you, but have you been comfortable in the house today? And he says, It's freezing in here!

Shockeroonie, Batman. I check the thermostat and it's about 64 degrees, which is chilly in the little Mouse House, and I turned on the heat, which hadn't been on yet, and the whole time I'm thinking: How long do you have to send people to college and graduate school before they have the sense to turn on the heat when they're cold? Because I think if I had been away for a few days, I would have come home and found them both frozen like popsicles.

Who's got the diminished capacity now, hmmm?




watching L & O :: ENTRY #2125
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan
READING: Reading Lolita in Teheran by Azar Nafisi