I knew they would get us in the end. The whole winter break has passed by in a state of blissful idleness, without a thought of school and homework. So, when we came in yesterday, they presented the new units, and gave us about a foot of papers to go through.
Don’t mind me, I’ll be sitting at the computer around the clock for the next two weeks reading through the material, making indexes, and checking up sources. I’ll have Mark cook and carry up food to the office upstairs, and I’ll have to get an IV tea dispenser up and running.
But it was good to see Abbie and Ben again. The trio of doom – or is that desperation? – is still going strong. Today we had a day of reminiscing about the lazy days of college. Is it too early to wallow in nostalgia over one’s youth and innocence and lack of obligations?
It seemed right when we gathered in a quiet room to rummage through the stacks and mounds of things we have to read and understand. We could collectively moan for a return to the watchful eye of our old Literature teacher. And to think that we thought of her as a demanding old hag at times. You don’t know how good you have it until you lose it.
I did manage to get through quite a few of the books in the pile on the night table over the break. but after that I went and bought new ones. I shall never follow the order I tell myself: don’t buy new books! It seems like I just can’t say no to myself.
The truth is that I will never get to the bottom of the pile, and I will never be able to burst out that I’ve cleared my reading list. As soon as there’s a little bit of space cleared, I go and fill it up again.
Mark shouldn’t make jokes about it, as he does some times, because he is exactly the same. Not with books, because he doesn’t generally read fiction, but with papers and things. They end up untouched for months on his side of the room, until I have to nag at him that he has to clean it up. Which he does, under protest.
The other day he came in with a big smile on his face. He had found an old chemistry set that he’d gotten one Christmas when he was a kid. Of course he had to play with it for a bit, and stink up the house. He doesn’t even want to be a chemist, I think. He’s far more likely to specialise in physics than chemistry. But of course, the chemistry set ended up in the pile of things he has. Like I put one of my books on the night table.
We’re more alike than not, I think. Maybe that is why we married each other?