As some of the five of you know, while I do have a computer at home, I don’t have Internet access, which went the way of the landline phone. And so my ability to send emails and post on my blog rests solely on the shoulders of three separate but equally awkward computers:
1. My work computer, which is owned by the very same company that recently officially forbid its employees to send personal emails and surf the Internet. Thus, whenever I send emails and post on my blog, I’m risking termination of my employment.
2. My parents’ computer, which I use far too often whenever I visit. And truth be told, I visit them far too often. They’re probably sick of me and probably sick of me using their computer all the time.
3. The public library computers, which I use occasionally and which I’m currently using. Typically, I use them on the days I don’t work and whenever I feel like I’ve worn out my welcome at my parents’ house.
And so, after spending at least 5 consecutive days at my parents’ house due to the holidays, and on my day off from work, I have decided to venture down to the public library to post this message. In doing so, I am braving an hour in the building in which I have had quite possibly the most uncomfortable encounters of my short life.
You see, the library is home to the Library Crazies. There are the men who talk to themselves; the women who cause scenes because their allotted computer time expired before they could finish their Internet game; the teenagers who are so starved for attention that they yell at each other and ignore the poor librarian’s desperate attempts to quiet them down; and finally, the staining ones (the individuals who leave stains on the chairs they use). So far, with 14 minutes left, I have been fortunate enough to have only encountered a man singing to himself and luckily, he sang in tune.
Today has been a somewhat disappointing one. My friend CAT canceled our cross-country skiing plans and so, despite the newly fallen 6-8 inches of snow, I stayed indoors. After a short trip to the mall with The Virgin Mary, I got into my car to run some errands. Well, evidently, Inga Beep the Jeep had another idea because she wasn’t running right and I had to turn around and park her in the parking lot. I don’t think her gears were catching; though, let’s be honest, her turn signal could have caused this problem and I wouldn’t have known the difference. The sun has set, the day is slowly ending, and I feel as though I’ve wasted it. If I had it to do over again, this is what would have happened:
I woke up at 9, showered, dressed, and walked to Muddy Waters, a local coffee shop and ordered a hot chocolate. After reading a few chapters in a new book of short stories, and after writing a few pages of a letter to a friend, I returned home, dropped off my things and then ventured out onto the streets of Burlington in my skis. After skiing around town for an hour or so, I returned home again, showered, dressed, and ventured to the local theatre to watch a matinee. Then I returned to Muddys for another hot chocolate and to read some more. As the sun was setting, I walked home for a quiet night of movie-watching and cuddling with Othello. The end. Oh well.
Benchly'sword 