Denver was flat and brown, with a tiny line of distant mountains obscured by smog. I had it in my head that all of Colorado was some kind of snowy mountain wonderland, but half of it looks like it was ironed. The view from the terminal while I ran to catch my connection was a bunch of parked planes, so it’s just as well there was no scenery out there anyway.
When I got home that night, the house was cluttered, the kids had no clean laundry, homework hadn’t been done, and the fridge was empty. But the kitchen ceiling was tiled. I feel really tired about all the shopping and chores being left for me, but the ceiling does look nice.
I tried hard to stay inspired and enthusiastic, but for the rest of the week I was stuck at the circ desk, helping people click "print" and pointing to the bathrooms, and then spending my evenings cooking and grocery shopping and doing laundry and helping with homework to catch up with things at home. I feel like a snuffed candle.
At least there was an event to look forward to, if I could just get through Saturday. Story time was out of control. About 80 people showed up, and did nothing to stop their kids from screaming and running through the aisles and pulling entire shelves of books onto the floor. I wished I had candies to hand out to all the people in the adult section who were hunkering in front of their laptops with clenched jaws. They didn’t complain, because they know this hour is for the kids, and I appreciate it.
After work we hurried to get ready for Burns Night, and drove to the country club to pretend we were fancy for a few hours. The club changed the rules to prohibit outside alcohol and top-shelf booze for nonmembers, so everyone was grumbling about not having a bottle at each table. They had to drink cheap scotch from the bar, instead. Scotch is my enemy, so I drank water and didn’t give a damn.
In other news
Baby Jesus the Stray Cat (he needs a better name) still keeps the fence between us, and he’s still thin and bony because he’s about 200 years old, but he’s feeling better and getting lazy about coming over to eat after having a big stretch and a scratch. I’m okay with him taking the meals for granted, he deserves for something to be easy.
No comments:
Post a Comment