Friday, July 28, 2006
This morning, after completing the multiple-choice physical anthropology exam (fifty questions bubbled in within twenty minutes), I sat at a library computer noting cross-references from the article I read two days ago about a couple of Pindar's odes. I received a much-unwanted phone call from my supervisor, who needed a last-minute cover for a shift from two to four this afternoon. I had intended to work out during that time, but I agreed, for I was the only person available.
In a slight revision to plans for the afternoon, I immediately afterward checked out a few books on the interpretation of Greek tragedy (with a detour to the bathroom in response to some unexpected, and much-unwanted, bowel movements). These I then lugged rather awkwardly one-handed (my right preoccupied with my medium-sized purse, stuffed with anthropology notes, four thick article print-outs, a Greek textbook, and a twenty-ounce bottle of Coca-Cola Zero) to my usual perch on one of the Flinstone benches in the foreign languages building. I sat cross-legged and serene, in my black JNCOs, black imitation Doc Martens, and a black baseball-style t-shirt, to which image Dr. McClain exclaimed ere she walked by, "Why, you look just like a Buddhist monk!" This I find the more amusing in light of April's recent comment that I am like a cockroach. Perhaps that's what I shall return as.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 1:31 PM]