I left work at 4:30; I arrived home sometime after 9pm.
After spending an hour on I-215 (I’d still not made it to I-15) I decided to get off the last I-215 exit into Rose Park and then head back to the SL library to catch Scott Abbott’s presentation on the rhetoric of war. I had thought of sticking around for it earlier but a headache pushed me home. Bad idea. From this point on in my journey I battled to keep it together, to believe I could salvage my evening.
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Ok, I will just get off here, then call Alison and let her know I won’t be … shit, I forgot my cell phone. First time since I bought the damn thing. That’s all right, I will stop at that 7-Eleven up the road, the same one I stopped at 6 years ago when my car overheated on the way home from teaching a night class as an adjunct. Still here and there’s the phone. Amazing anyone really uses these things anymore. One quarter in, dial, it’s wants another, some guy answers: “No this isn’t the Christiansens.” Ok, that didn’t work. Maybe I need to dial 801, one quarter then another, same guy answers: “shit!” It’s alright; I’m ok. I will check my cell phone number—had them for few months, but I’m terrible with numbers and I never have to dial my number or my wife’s as hers is saved on my phone…. Son of a bitch: 682 not 681. Fine, two more quarters left. It works though Ali ain’t too happy I won’t be home soon.
This evening is going to be OK; I’ve wasted an hr but I was listening to NPR and I didn’t wreck. I’ll zip down to North Temple and hit the Red Iguana for dinner—we were introduced to the multiple moles last week, yummy. No zipping, as roads suck but I travel the 3 miles in about 20 minutes—man I gotta pee. Great meal and a coffee at RI, graded a pile of assignments while waiting, noticed the abundant Frida Kahlo art in the restaurant. Note to self: need to finish Frida as it is due at Hollywood tomorrow night. Note to self #2: need to request one of these nice little cubby hole dining areas back by the bathrooms next time I come. Library here I come.
Looks like I might be late so I try a little zipping. Not a good idea. Car in front of me brakes, there’s no way I will stop in time. I look in the right rear mirror; there’s a car close but probably it can tape the brakes and avoid me if I change lanes. No time—literally like a second—to ponder: I plow over just missing the car in front of me and getting a honk from the car in the next lane. Accident avoided. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck that would have really ruined my evening.
5 to 7, I make it to the library and there’s actually a park right by west entrance—sweet, this evening is going to be ok. I find out where the gig is, 4th floor, go up, take another potty break—coffee goes right through me. I see the room where it must be but no Scott and only a couple of people standing about. This ain’t good. I see Diana Hirschi—she sent me the email about the event—the Quaker war protester. She says it’s been cancelled: the storm which brought me here has prevented Scott from making it—one hour to get from Orem to American fork so he turned around. That’s OK, I wanted to check out the used books they sale in the library story. I head down to the main floor but the store that was just open is now closed. OK, I’m getting a bit pissed. Are the gods against me? I’ve now spent about 2hrs driving and 15 bucks without accomplishing much. It’s ok Ron: we have bags of work,--humanities’ reflection files—and my computer (yippee!) outside in the car. Trudge out, thankful I had a close park, then go back up to the 4th floor: I want to enjoy the view as I check my email and do some blogging. Sit down, get out comp…son of bitch, computer is like roasting hot. What the F… Ok, if my computer is fried—it does smell a bit—I’m like going to fucking freak out. It’s ok. Let’s go plug it in (battery light is on) and see if it’s ok. Holy mother of god—no power cord, I left it at work. Shit, Shit, shit—I needed the comfort of email of blogging, some comfort, PLEASE!!! Anything!*%
In the end I grade 2/3s of my reflection files—maybe it’s better that I couldn’t waste my time emailing and worrying about the ensuing summer contract vote. By damn I have accomplished two things: engulfed wonderfully spicy yellow mole dish and graded 15 reflection file portfolios.
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I wonder if my adventures will continue, but it’s a quick ride home and for a bonus (I just realized there’s a KCPW station at 105. something that I can pick up all the way into Layton especially when 90.1 has switched to jazz) I catch some quirky stories about anorexia and money during my drive and I actually hit 60 mph.
Thank God there are not suitors taking over my household and lusting after my wife. If so I might just turn around and go back to work.
4 comments:
man, I hate snow. but that mole sounds great. I could really use some food right now.
I love snow and I love mole. Was your computer really fried?
To be really Odyssian don't you need someone to waylay you? Maybe that is what your paper reading did.
Dog, what a night. While you were journeying, I did the following: made dinner; laid around; watched multiple episodes of Law and Order: CI. All in a row. While it snowed. With a dog curled up nearby.
I highly recommend the mole taster plate at Red Ig before you order.
computer is fine--maybe it was merely internalizing my anxiety.
No offense Lisa, but I hate you.
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