End of the Day

I'm really concerned about my bodies ability to regulate its own temperature right now. I get so cold. I'm in pants a long sleeve shirt, sox, shoes and a sweatshirt and I'm still chilled. I feel like there is some physical metaphor at function in me. At Assateague one night the wind was killing me, I was in the same getup as now plus a towl and a fire and I still felt cold, shiver cold.

From time to time I see tiny dogs that obviously have spinal peralysis in their back legs and they are hooked up to these little wheels. (I've only ever seen this with little dogs...) But they get around so well, it seems like they always have a ton of energy. What brought that to mind was a young boy I saw who must have a problem with the bones in his legs and he has a sort of walker with four wheels and that kind of energy. At first he looked like a kid goofing around with something he stumbled across. It's a fascinating thing to observe.

I had a flabbergasting experience with an older woman earlier today. I think the word they apply is dowdy? She had a collection of mardi gras beads around her neck and a pair of very bright blue earings that accentuated them. People drift in very often and deposit items in front of me with out a word to what they are or what they want. Return? Check out? Purchase? She was one of those. Guessing on my part often leads to minor mishaps. They don't comprehend the system so my questions are misunderstood. She seemed to feel casually overburdened by the errands she had to do before her trip to Hungary. People often perplex me by the fact that their words fail to match their actions. She wanted to return two travel books and she wanted some new ones. The concept that she had to go upstairs for this rolled off her like rain on a windshield. I think she had some vague expectation that I could simply produce a couple more for her. Using all my faculties of clarification I think I managed to state what she would need to do. At which point she handed me her card and asked if she should call when she got back. I sat in stunned silence. Informed her that her account was clean and there would be no need. She then left...

There's a song by the Decemberists that was playing on my way to work, Valencia. I listened to the words this time and they were remarkably sad. Atleast, I listened to half of the song, the part where the girl throws herself in front of him as her brother shoots. So it keeps going through my head. Va-len-cee-ah, ah, ah...We'll burn this whole city do-own. I was always drawn to the Decemeberists, but I didn't like his voice at first, I do now. I find my early impressions to be something of an incumberance.

I've been reading the House of Mirth. I reached a point where the book felt too long, it was a slow descention for the main character, the climax occured so early on it felt odd for the character to just drag on and on through the story. But she has bottomed out now and become self-relfective in a way she hid from before. I thought she was going to die. Her health was failing, she can't sleep at night and she was afraid of being alone with herself. (I want to go home. My head aches a little, my body hurts, I'm cramping... I hate 8 hour shifts on my period.) I've gotten to that point in the day where I want my time to myself so everytime a patron comes up "evil person" runs through my head. Man, my last 20 minutes and I'm going to have to create a pile of new accounts. Frick.