Vacation is waning.
It's what makes August so sad, not so much because I'm going back to work. I actually like my job for all the bitchin'
and moanin' I do about it. I'm sad
because I'm leaving the beach behind.
Booooo.
Today I listen to the weather forecasters (I mean, really --
how many blogs have I written to complain about their inaccurate forecasts?!?!)
who claim it is going to be cool and rainy all day long. I decide to blow off the beach and my errands
and spend three hours setting up my classroom.
And the forecast is accurate … for the time being. At 8:00 a.m. it is a little misty, chilly,
and overcast. By 9:00 a.m., I am deeply
entrenched in dragging boxes of books off the high windowsills without killing
myself in the process. By 10:30, I have
most of the heavy lifting done. By
11:45, I am completely done for the day even though there's more to do. I'm done because I have to go for a dental
x-ray and because my classroom is getting extremely hot and muggy all of a
sudden.
Hmmmm. I wonder what
the weather is like out there.
I crane my neck around and try to get a glimpse of sky
beyond the edges of one of my three windows, and it almost looks like blue
skies out there. Almost. You see, I cannot be certain what it's like
at all outside anymore because the outside no longer exists from my
classroom.
I am wall to wall with the new school construction (not my
school but the one they're connecting to my school). My view from all three windows is endless
steel girders and lots of hanging utility lights. The fresh air I get comes in via the
construction site, swirling through dirt and dust and grime and metal. Today the arc welding is going on, and sparks
are sailing all over the place. The sour
smell of acetylene wafts in through the windows. Now don't be giving me the bullshit that
acetylene doesn't smell. I've been
around construction guys -- I was married to one -- and I know damn well that
commercial buildings use acetylene that isn't pure, and it has a smell to it,
maybe so they can tell if they've left the valve open before it blows everyone
to smithereens.
My friend is also at school for a bit. Someone else is attempting to make copies
(but the machine is already jamming and the new year doesn’t start for a
week). My favorite tech guy is back
after a health scare. The vice principal
unsuccessfully tries to hide when he sees me.
And I whistle at the janitorial staff because really we do have the best
looking group of guys gathered in one spot, so we are very, very lucky to be
drooling women in this building.
I have to leave for some appointments and errands, so I
close my windows (for all the good they do) and wave goodbye to the Steel
Jungle.
I walk upstairs to meet my friend who works in a classroom
facing the opposite side of the building.
From her vantage point, there is no construction. Everything still looks exactly the same. I get my first good look outside since 8:30
that morning and realize --
It's sunny out.
Goddamnit. Wasted another
perfectly acceptable beach day inside my sci-fi room. Honestly, the landscape outside my windows is
like being in the bowels of a starship, and starships are probably fun but they
aren't the beach.
Stupid weather
forecasters. Stupid news stations. Stupid weather channel. Stupid me for being gullible yet again.
Tomorrow I have to run errands then, if all goes well, I'm
going to scoot up to Maine for a few hours.
If the weather holds, I'll be hitting the pool. Thursday I have an appointment to have the
car serviced, but I made the appointment late enough in the afternoon that I
can drive to the beach if it's decent out and early enough to avoid commuter
traffic. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday
all look like possible beach days.
Monday the kiddo goes back to college.
After all that, it'll be Steel Jungle all day, every day,
day in and day out. This means I get the
first glimpses of the new school in perpetuum.
I get to watch progress happen every single day this school year. That's pretty awesome, too.
Besides, if it's a nice enough day, all I have to do is hop
in my car after work and drive forty minutes to the coast or head to the
university early and walk down the street to the ocean. I get the best of both worlds. I get the Sandy Steel Jungle. Sounds like a story character, a hero: Sandy
Steele. Sandy Steel Jungle, though, sounds
more like a hooker.
Hey, I might be onto something here. I think the smell of acetylene is being
replaced by the smell of a new story idea.
Enjoy the waning days of summer, people, because it won't be
coming around for another ten long months.
Cheers.
