Woke to snow. Just in time for the commute. And because it is so nasty and sloppy out, what I should have done was this: Poured a cup of coffee (because the coffeemaker is set to have a pot ready and waiting for me at 5:30), called in sick, picked up the apartment a little bit, kissed my daughter on the head and let her sleep some more, picked up Alice (and for the washer/dryer, who is Alice?) and run through the scales for a half hour, then put some music on and read some scripts. Then, later Kathryn and I could have put on some skis and played over on the conservation land with Bob, the Wonder Aussie, then come home and snuggled on the couch with a movie--something stupid on the lines of Dumb and Dumber.
That's what I should have done.
Instead, this is what I did: poured a cup of coffee, turned up the heat to warm the water for a shower, washed the dishes from last night (Sue, Kathryn, and I made homemade pizza,) checked email (nothing,) replied to some email from over the weekend from someone from my acting class, freaked at hearing the heat come on because I just paid $200.00 to the oil company, made my lunch, made Kathryn's lunch, took a shower, turned the heat off, kissed Kathryn on the head and woke her up, took Bob out and turned on the truck and cleaned the snow off, went back upstairs, took Kathryn to school, drove to the train station, stood in the cold and wet for ten minutes, sat on a train for 45 minutes, finished The Glass Menagerie, having read it so long ago I forgot about the ending and how painful that must have been for Laura, sat and thought about how nice it is to just sit on a train and rock back and forth, thought about how later in the week Sue is leaving for New York and we'll take the 8:00 to Boston so we can sit together, got off the train at South Station, bought a paper, stopped at the ATM and allotted myself only twenty bucks for the week, walked five minutes to the office (stopping to get a bagel at Finagle Bagel,) rode the elevator to the 12th floor wondering if I actually did hear this woman say something under her breath about me and crowding her with my backpack (if I did, darling, I'm sorry, but stop being so damn angry at the world--it's not all about you, you know,) stopped off in the men's room to clean up, shrugged off my coat and scarf at my cube, got a cup of coffee...
That's what I did.
Looking out the window where I can see the traffic on Tremont moving past The Granary Burying Ground and the sleet still pelting down, I should have just stayed at home.
What we do to make a living.
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