Lunch break
It is cold and quiet in the library. I have taken down my book display, so all the little book holders are sitting empty like stiff little white skeletons. I have misplaced my mug of coffee, which I'm sure will make itself evident by Monday. Or maybe the following Monday, as it has to compete with the nose-numbing air freshener I used in the library.
Friday. Another Friday, I swear we had one last week. It's as if each day of the week is aligned in a sort of worm-hole fashion to create singular, long, terrible days. Every Friday I'll be stuck in this endless Friday. And Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday, Sunday, and the rest of them, too.
Promises, promises
One of the high school student swore to me that my copier kicked the bucket ("whoa, this is waaay before my time, this is from like the 80s"), and the tech guys told me it was a dinosaur and wasn't getting any new parts, so I was all excited about maybe getting a shiny new copier - and then the maintenance people came around and fixed it anyway. Old Bessy lives to see another decade.
Yes, I'm avoiding talking about my personal life. I am a career girl now. I drink coffee, talk about student profiles, wear uncomfortable shoes, and watch tv shows starring Sarah Jessica Parker.
About my personal life
Fine.
My mother took Gavin to bronze casting last night while Mike and I poured our guts out to the therapist. I am going to dig out my half-finished sculpture from last year and work it back into life. Clay, plaster, blast furnace, grinding metal, blowtorches, dangerous chemicals - that's therapy right there. It will be wonderful to kick off the heels, pull on some jeans, get my hands dirty, and get into that intense concentration where everything else disappears.
When my first marriage ended, time slowed down to a crawl...it seemed that every day took forever to end, and I could spend hours just drinknig a cup of coffee. But then time sped up again, and today I'm startled to find that it's been ten years since I walked out. And eight since I remarried...
ReplyDeleteHow is your mother doing?
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My mom is awesome. She and I seem to be back to our tight buddy system we perfected during the lonely years on the reservation. She listens when I rage or weep, hits me with what I don't want to hear when I need to hear it, and takes us away mentally when we need the reprieve. She's a little crunched with her job and coursework, but pretty good.
ReplyDeleteExcellent! When you were silent, I was worried.
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