Umbrellas

On way to work this morning, get off train and am trudging toward exit--air very damp and warm and have stupidly worn heavy rain boots--see five people in front of me all holding collapsible umbrellas. For some reason sight of folded up umbrellas of different colors--pink, one printed with chickens, one lime green, two black--makes me feel melancholy as though all the people had been carrying kids lunch boxes in a non-ironic manner. Feel that umbrellas are hopeful things, especially the small folded up kind. (Am not explaining this well at all--can only say that was at the time quite touched.) Am met in the lobby of school by hordes of new students, some of them very young and all of them shouting at each other boisteriously. Debate taking elevator (let one car pass as it is more full than it ought to be and certainly more full that would be comfortable in) and decide on stairs. Reach tenth floor in state of near collapse, embarassingly gasping for air. Libby asks, Are you All Right while giving me look of horror. Explain to her that was trying to avoid the crowds. She says briskly that the crowds have come to us -- The phone has been ringing off the hook. Phone continues to ring off the hook and have long string of unpleasant conversations: with three irate students (separately), with one teacher who tells me about her sciatica, with new member of the deans office who is hard of hearing and have to shout into phone and repeat self, and finally the vice-boss, who asks, Where did you put the budget from last year? Reply, Um, ah... To which she replies, Spit it out. (Later have very tart response about where I wished I'd put the budget.) During moment of calm, try to think about umbrellas again but charm of umbrellas has gone. Cynical side suggests that humans in the abstract much more likeable than in the flesh.