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Friday, March 20, 2015

"We are experience slight turbulence"

That's actually overstating the case a bit, but it did feel like a somewhat bumpy day. Of course, in the spites of life, it makes perfect sense that yesterday, when I felt crappy and stayed holed up at home, was brilliant sunshiny and relatively warm; today, when I was firmly determined to get out of the house, it was much colder--and was just starting to snow as I headed out to Coffeed (the more cozy of the two local cafes, the one not attached to a bookstore). Still, off I trundled, back-pack loaded with antiquated (read: heavy) laptop and the book of critical material I'm bushwhacking my way through. I got myself settled--and realized that, although there were at least four moments prior to leaving the house when I thought "I have to remember to put my computer glasses in the pack," I had not, in fact, put my computer glasses in my pack. In the old days, I'd have been able to get along just fine without, but, alas, I now am truly uncomfortable trying to read for any length of time without some kind of magnification.

What to do, what to do? Answer, ask the guy sitting next to me to keep an eye on my pack and computer and dash across the street to a little local drug store that, yes, carried reading glasses. At first it looked as if I was going to have to get frames that would look fine in a clown act but not quite as professorial and dignified as I'd like, but eventually I found reasonable frames holding reasonable strength of magnification--and now I have a pair of glasses that can simply live in my pack. This makes, um, five pairs of reading glasses in my life--no, wait, six. I can either have a pair of glasses in anything I might carry with me and in every location where I might work, or I can succumb to the cliche entirely and start wearing my glasses on a chain around my neck. But I've drawn a line there: long skirts, long grey hair in a braid (sometimes even in a bun), live alone with more than one cat, teach composition--but I will not wear my glasses on a chain around my neck.

OK, so, that little problem solved, I returned to the cafe, settled in to work--and periodically looked up to see how the snow storm was progressing. I started hearing the cafe workers saying that they were going to close early, so everyone could get home before the roads got bad, so I figured I'd leave early, too, and continue working at the library. (That plan had the advantage of getting me away from the completely torturous aroma of baking goodies.) Trundle, trundle down to the library, trying not to leave clumps of snow all around the computer table, then another relatively good whack of work--until I saw that the snow was getting pretty determined itself and thought I'd better walk home before walking became too problematic. by the time I was home, I could do a fair to middling yeti impersonation--and am now happily winding up the day as the snow continues to fall.

I don't know what tomorrow will be like. I have a late afternoon social engagement, but the shoveling issue will have to be addressed in the morning, and I have no idea how those two things may interfere with the work. But I can see the light at the end of the "annotating critical essays" tunnel--and no, it's not the headlights of an oncoming train, I don't think. So, excelsior, or some such thing.

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