Sunday, August 14, 2005
Interpreting graphs projecting the ideal average gradient for a hypothetical aqueduct preoccupied me this morning, when I awoke at approximately two-thirty to urinate and could not fall back asleep. First I paced around the room, listening to a Disney album for about half an hour, then I read and took notes from Roman Aqueducts and Water Supply, which admittedly bored me until I reached the descriptions of construction methods. I am now at "Chapter Eight: Hydraulics", which is going to be out of control.
I went to bed again around six, perhaps, and left at ten-thirty to take a shower at Stangel (which does have hot water, sing praises to a Lord who I shall still only mention hypothetically). I ate a sandwich and cookies at Subway (chocolate chip = ungood, oatmeal raisin = doubleplusgood), to and from which I walked only a short distance, my new residence hall (Horn) lying just across the street. I hope the jalapenos do not make an ugly encore.
Aside from aqueduct research, the grandest project preoccupying me this week was creating a tent bed, in which I have slept fabulously the past two nights. I paid for a "single room", but I received a double without a roommate (no complaints), and therefore two of everything, all movable (except the sink- it remains in place, despite repeated yanking). I stared at the twin beds for several minutes, thinking, Two beds for one Lauree... two beds for one Lauree... this does not compute.
So I did the natural thing, which was to haul the mattresses out into the hallway (I still had boxes of belongings piled in the center of the room) and pull both beds by their headboards longside-up. I set them across from each other against one wall, double-stacking the mattresses on the floor between them, with comforters and sheets draped across the upper structure.
Whitney, convinced it will collapse, said, 'Your bed is going to be the death of you.'
Bianca noted, 'You can't have sex in that thing.' I had to laugh at this, for I imagine no relationship will ever progress far enough that anyone will see my bed and think about The Nasty. I am content to sleep with Kermit for another year. The bed is that cool.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 1:28 PM]