June 1st, 2008

Tom Lehrer is Smug

(no subject)

God damn, people.

I mean one moment we're midway through a crumbtastic weekend weather-wise, it's kinda chilly with morbidly damp breezes coming thru the window outside of which at the moment is nothing but a sea of dark dark chlorophyll green, rain-soaked new leaves dangling limply outside, turning to maybe sorta muggy there's humidity definitely I think the radio said something about thunderboltsnlightning, veryveryfrightening me and now it's the first time the window's been open all season and the radio is just idly throwing music outside while I was sprawled out on the bed in front of an open window hoping for any kind of cross-ventilation, devoid of all energy, but then last night I was walking down College Ave and there was a tap on my shoulder just at the same time a lightning bolt cracked horizontally across the sky for a brilliant effect best seen in the letterboxed version and I turned around to see where the tap was coming from and there was no one, oh well, no matter, and I turned around and walked straight (ka-pow) into summer.

God damn.

Rode the Orange Line out and rode the Orange Line back and the summer people are out, everybody all sweaty, grubby, dirty, and desperate, and here it's only the first of June but I'm so fatigued and so dingy it feels like the second week of August already, and now here's the stop on the Orange Line I used every day back when I was starting a new job after so long, all sweaty, grubby, dirty and desperate, waiting outside in this oppressive wall of heat for a ride in a blessedly air-conditioned van with several other people, all headed to the same job, the same destination we knew we were all heading not because we could go there but because we had to go somewhere, and the weeds are already growing up through the cracks in the concrete and nobody cares and I am glad I had enough change in my pocket for an iced coffee at the stand with enough left over for a soda out of the vending machine for my lunch, and then maybe I'll bum a cigarette off one of the disaffected youth at the smoker's picnic table because at least then it'll give me a reason to go outside while trying to find just one reason to go back in for another four hours of the same before going back home to sprawl out on the bed in front of an open window and hope for any kind of cross-ventilation. Years later the places have all changed and so have the situations, but the sprawling is the same and if anything had to stay the same, I'm glad it's just the sprawling.

Yesterday was the first day the window was open, and today is the first day the fan is on. The low constant drone is reassuring and friendly. I missed it. It will be the undertone of the next four months.