500 miles

I warned you. Tuesdays take my breath away, and not always in a kind way.

So that when I wake up and remember that it is indeed That day, I almost do not get out of bed. (Realizing the futility of this, I stagger forth.)

And then the rush is on. Quickly, to my computer. Pull up notes. Read text. More notes. Oh dear, it’s getting dangerously close to bus catching time.

An email message pops up: would you like to complete a survey? As a valuable customer of Air France… We will give you 500 miles for your efforts.

500 miles. I don’t need miles, but I hoard miles, in the same way that poor people collect whatever they are able to collect so that they can feel the sense of accomplishment and ownership in at least this wee area of their lives.

I start the survey. I read that, on the average, it takes 15-20 minutes. I ignore that part of it (because I don't have 15 let alone 20 minutes) and I plow on. Done!

Oh dear. Look at the time.

Shower. Wet hair. No matter – the class’ll think I got caught in the rain. Because (on and off) it is raining out there.

Throw things in backpack and head out. It’s 9 a.m. Class is at 9:30. I need luck. I need coffee.

Why did I miss coffee?

Why did I miss the bus?? I wave: please stop. Please let me on! The driver shakes her head. I walk to another bus stop.

Remind me why I thought it absolutely essential that I fill out a survey about the service I get on Air France last June?

[Because for those few minutes (15-20 if you listen to them, and I should have listened to them), I imagined myself to be flying back to Europe. Time will stop, in Paris. Just for those few minutes.]

I take the absolutely last bus that could possibly get me to campus on time.

Teach one class, attend meeting, do presentation, adjust notes for next class, look out the window...





Rain. Yellow galoshes. I wish I had galoshes. Eh -- it's only rain. At least it's not sleeting, snowing, icing over. Indeed, the leaves are still very green out there on Bascom Hill! I teach that last class and two hours later, I’m done. Run to bus stop...





Rain cloud comes, rain cloud recedes, new one forms. I don't care, I don't care! Bus home, black clothes go on, out I go to the little shop where sometimes I moonlight.

But it’s not a moonlit night yet. The skies are almost Scottish – blow high, blow low, speed bonnie boat – oh oh oh, Scottish? Did someone say Scottish? I miss sheep! Eh. At least we have rainbows. Somewhere, over a rainbow... I want that somewhere to be there, at the end of this very long very hard run!





Earlier, Ed, thinking that I must surely be craving a trip, phones and asks – don’t you want to pull out a sleeping bag and sleep on the beaches of Central America? No! In January? No!! You and I don't think alike! That is too much adventure! I want a distantly dull break!

I have a customer at the store. A chatty customer. My head is throbbing. I’m thinking that when I get home, I’ll still have papers to read. Can a head throb faster? I feel that it can.

9:30. Home. A few minutes respite. Sushi box comes out, so does a glass, for the wine. I tell myself it'll be a short respite. I fall asleep on the couch.

An hour later, I sit up, look at the clock. Sigh, I pick up my laptop and get back to where I left off.