Reading: The King of Shadows, The Professor and the Madman

Moving: 30' Precor elliptical, ramp 15, resistance increased from 5 to 6 to 7, for successive thirds of period, two 2-lb handweights, full weight circuit minus overhead press, whose seat was broken.

6 April 2000: House

We went for it.

This led to a bout of paralytic fear and, scarily enough, the kind of thought process I had, or didn't have, my first year of grad school, when I could not focus, could not concentrate, could not think of a damn thing worth doing or even how to do it.

I spoke to myself sternly.

"Self, go do something."

For some reason that didn't make sense at the time, I didn't go to the gym during the day, so it was imperative that I Nordic Track or go for a walk when I got home. There was no way I was going to Track; I think one of the causes of my late-winter malaise is that as the temperature climbs, I am still going to the Y every lunch hour and not getting outside enough. So I went for a walk. But I was afraid of isolating myself with my thoughts and foresaw myself sitting under a tree sobbing. I brought the phone for just this contingency. I dialed RRP as soon as I had slung the trash into the dumpster.

For a mercy, she was home. She's earned her Master of Public Health, so she no longer has school as an excuse not to talk to me. MPR was at work--he's a cop and they have to deal with his inconstant schedule. She was sitting at home watching her taped "Guiding Light" and eating Caesar salad the way we used to make it--Newman's dressing, with canned Mandarin oranges and a few strips of sautéed chicken. It was perfect. So I talked to her for almost all my regular 3.6 mile walk--not the whole regular walk only because I added a longer jog to the homeward leg, going farther east and north than I would have to get home, and winding up at Walgreen's to pick up my prescription. Because we haven't gone shopping together in almost five years, I took her on a mini-tour of Walgreen's. I priced Depends undergarments and learned that Ensure now comes in a pudding.

At that point we had been on the phone for 80 minutes and I'd probably given myself a tumor (gotta get a headset) but I felt much better and it was RRP's bedtime and it was getting dark and I was still in my sunglasses so we hung up so I could hurry home. Or so I told her: actually I went to BB and rented "The Shop Around the Corner" and then Safeway for dishwasher soap and then home.

I wanted to see "The Shop Around the Corner" because a) it has Jimmy Stewart and b) it's the movie upon which "You've Got Mail" with (hack!) Meg Ryan is based. It therefore must be better, right, no matter what RRP and DEDBG (neither of whom has seen it) say? Wrong. It's based on a Hungarian play and all the characters have Hungarian names. All but three--Jimmy Stewart and Maureen? Margaret? Sullivan and one other--have Hungarian accents too, or try to. In the case of Frank Morgan, he can sound like no one but the Wizard of Oz to me anyway. Why were people with Hungarian names and Hungarian lives working in a Hungarian store possessed of American voices? I couldn't say: because they were from Hollywood, which cast a Caucasian to star in "The Good Earth"? Oh maybe.

I fell asleep.

Today, in contrast, I feel much better. I rounded up some boxes to begin packing. I went to the gym like a good workoutbee and glory be my elliptical trainer was free: I did my entire workout, except the seat of the overhead press was broken. So again, I wasn't outside, but I had good physical activity, which helps. Whether by endophins alone or by warding off guilt, I neither know nor care. It works. I ran out to Office Depot and bought three accordion monthly files (though why I bought ones for 2001 and 2002 when I'll only have to move them, I don't know) and graph paper (for obsessive furniture and plant placement). So I was outside a little bit, anyway. I brought boxes home. I read The Professor and the Madman on the bus. I sat in the sun. I did not pack. I threw some stuff out. I made lists. I culled books from Jessamyn's reading lists to add to my to-be-read lists.

And if it weren't almost time for "ER," I would continue to play with my booklists. Instead, I shall remove to the living room and tape pieces of graph paper together and invent measurements and plot.

Full frontal details about the house will come when we reinstall the digital camera's software on the G3. We didn't take a huge number of pictures, though, and I don't know when I'll get back to it. RDC is going tomorrow to accompany the inspector; I'll send it along with him.

When we own the house, I can sit in my own backyard sobbing, safe from the eyes of passersby. Heh.