Tuesday, July 05, 2005
This would be my favourite block of lines from The Aeneid thus far:
From far away I shall come after youHeh-heh, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'... vengeance, thy breath is sweet.
With my black fires, and when cold death has parted
Body from soul I shall be everywhere
A shade to haunt you! You will pay for this,
Unconscionable!
My substitute supervisor, Leigh (the assigned guy is on vacation until mid-July), ist im Stress, und wir finden daß ein bisschen lustig. Sie weiß, daß wir finden ihr lustig; deshalbs, sie ist ärgert... she probably has a lengthy, dramatic spiel planned for the staff meeting tomorrow evening, for which I have already developed an idiotic, non-plussed expression to plant on my face. Because my left eye is much weaker than my right, and I wear no corrective lenses or contacts, if I stare at something for a time, that left eye sometimes wanders. It unnerves people a little when they talk to me, so I'll stare at Leigh just to drive her inexpressibly insane, if she does berate the office staff for us all missing shifts this week.
Leigh liked me, until I forgot my shift yesterday (she had to come in to cover for me, because the other office staff ignored her phone calls)- now, I believe she wants to commit bodily harm to almost everyone. I should probably chew gum, despite my intense dislike for the habit, in order to assure myself I shan't laugh. Ah, apathy- thy breath is sweet...
Today is the first day of school. When Ashlea, I, and Michael were wee, our mother made us dress up and pose for pictures somewhere in or in front of the house, postured a bit awkwardly with over-stuffed backpacks and holding the standard boxes of tissue we always had to bring for general classroom use. Newness of surroundings and the shift from summer to school, school, school again genuinely excited me.
Now, of course, I am quite a bit more jaded by the whole system, though something I feel that would alleviate this reluctance to leave my bed every morning is a gigantic sandbox, with monkey bars and swingsets, set in the currently dirt-filled space between the philosophy, foreign language, food sciences, and library buildings. It would also make an excellent depository for the cigarette butts of the students (and occasional faculty) who smoke behind the foreign language building during class breaks. After the build-up of a goodly-sized stack, people could play massive games of King of the Mountain.
I have more ideas, lots, lots more, but for now I shall guard them, lest someone else profit by my genius.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 10:47 PM]