Overstimulated

Tuesdays, my shifts go from 9:00 to 11:00 in the a.m. and then from 6:00 to 8:00 at night. In between: a long lunch, somewhere distant. (An effortful walk does me good.)

Today, though, I only got as far as the IUSB cafeteria, what with needing to quickly rid myself of jitters from breakfast (I’d drunk too much syrup and coffee). Therefore, after lunch I had an extra hour to kill in the library. I was restless. I was able to read just ten or twenty pages before I had to get up to browse the stacks. There’s that Tim O’Brien book I’ve been curious about. There’s another Anne Lamott book to wallow in.

But I figured, what I check out I’ll have to carry home, and hardbacks are heavy. So I put them back.

As it happened, though, Martin offered to drive me home because of the windchill. When we arrived at the house, Mary had the fire going, and Bianca was all snuggly. … Point is, I could have painlessly brought home those books.

Stephen and I have agreed to read Shirley Jackson’s The Road Through the Wall, one chapter per day, beginning tomorrow (the prologue counts as a chapter). We invite you to read it with us.

Melting

Most definitely not snowed in; but the last two nights, walking has been perilous due to the ice. There are too few English terms for the different slicknesses I’ve encountered.

Today, though, we’ve had lightning flashes and thick rain. The snow mounds — formerly tall as houses, hard as marble — are greatly reduced.

(Will corpses be revealed, I wonder?)

If we’re lucky, the water won’t refreeze; the air will remain warm until the fluid has all trickled away. Meanwhile our yard is a slushy swamp, impassable in canvas shoes.

The male Sabby has sent me this beautiful thing.

The female has been nagging at me to continue applying, belatedly, for health insurance:

two Facebook messages;
one text message;
one email;
one e-card;
one postcard.

It’s so touching, I almost hate to do it.

The food of love

Happy Valentine’s to my siblings & their SOs:

Mary & Martin (@ Tradewinds);
Stephen & Edoarda (@ Penn Station);
David & Ana (who knows where they decided to eat. They’re in Texas).

I went to Wendy’s.

Now that it’s publicized on Facebook, I presume it’s OK to mention that Ana & David are going to be married this summer, in Indiana. Mary and I have been looking at reception venues for them. So far, my favorite is the Kroc Center, what with its soccer fields. I envision eating some cake … then going outside to play soccer … then proposing a toast … then playing soccer … then giving a speech … then playing a little soccer … then doing a little grinding …… what a good day.

Snowed in, pt. 5 — Olympics

Well, not *snowed* in, exactly. But today was frigid; the schools were closed; Mary & Martin stayed at home; Stephen remained unemployed; and I didn’t have to work, either.

Dunno what to write about.

Share your opinion of the Olympics, says Martin. (We’re watching the opening ceremony.)

The Olympics are propaganda for imperialism.

This ceremony is a hoot, though. Right now the athletes are parading into the stadium. I’m enjoying the relentless techno music … the gaudy winterwear … the non-citizens who’re representing the tropical nations.

The girl athletes are gorgeous. Mary explains: It’s because they’re young, fit, and rich.

The Russians have a lot of culture, and their anthem is bad-ass.