Meeting

Attend meeting concerning the curriculum. Prior to meeting, with the help of dear Libby, prepare copies in colored folders with printed labels and also sticky tabs on each different section, which Libby says are essential. Get very excited about organizing (Later think that it may just be that got to use stickers--act of which must have awakened pleasant childhood memory of collecting the kind of stickers that smelled--favorite of which was the Skunk. Though sticky tabs, naturally, have no intentional smell.) As am carring well-organized folders down stairs feel that Libby's influence has indeed been for the good--at least this time--as am very ready to talk about classes we plan to offer next spring. Feel supreme pleasure that days of going to meetings about office supplies are far behind me. Congratulate self on coming up in the world. As soon as meetin gstarts, the representative from the Math department begins to talk droningly and incomprehensibly-the chair of the foreign languages department bristles and tries to interrupt at which point there is what appears to be a vicious skirmish. Become slightly interested, but as have no idea what the fight is about and because Math continues to drone on, without letting Foreign Languages press her point, fight fizzles out. Last bit of original feeling of triumph trickles away and familiar sense of dread and restlessness set in. Idly watch myself draw a grizzly bear, a ponderosa pine tree, and a very passable wolf howling at the moon. Think--not for the first time--that life might have been better spent as a visual artist--though this latest crop of drawings surely suggest that if had followed course would have ended up a specialized Western artist--like the kind who burns images into sliced pieces of tree stump. Am chagrined at image of self, but become very involved in fantasy anyway. Buy pickup truck. Set up house in Montana. Am roused by the Dean calling my name. Superior organization (note: remember to thank Libby) saves the day. Own presentation to the group very very brief and unmarred by fights of any kind, which is slightly disappointing--perhaps fighting denotes higher status in group? After meeting, am met on the stairs by the Contessa who says that I look tired. Never find this turn of phrase uplifting. Can only wonder what face actually looks like. (Probably best not to wonder too much.) The Contessa says, Hey, want to get a drink? Think that she is talking about now and say with too much enthusiasm, Oh yes please! She explains that she meant after work--am I free? I am. She says it would be great if I'd ask Dave if he can come--and she will ask the New Man. Ask her if she doesn't think it might be weird. She says, oh yes, of course. Since she's already made me admit that I have no other plans after work, can only agree to meet at local wine bar.