It’s Thursday now and I’m back in the office. I’m half-expecting a student to come within the next fifteen minutes, so I don’t want to get into something just to have to stop it. Therefore, I’m posting. Go figure. At any rate, yesterday at work was something of . . . an experience. I can think of many choice words to describe it–after all, I did my thesis on insults, slurs and other such invectives. However, I’ll refrain and just get into the explanation for why it was so interesting.

Okay, so yesterday morning I checked the ISU website and it said that classes were cancelled for the morning but that afternoon classes would still take place. That meant that I would miss two classes but still have two to teach. So I got all my shit together, drove at the speed of a box turtle, and arrived safely at campus. It seemed odd to me, however, that there were so few cars in the parking lots and so few people about. In fact, I didn’t see anyone on my way across 8th and 7th to the office. The door to our department was locked, but since it was still before noon, I figured most people just hadn’t shown up yet. There aren’t many classes at noon, after all. That’s generally considered to be everyone’s lunch time. Well, everyone except me and the eight people in that class. Regardless.

So I get to my office door and Lucy (one of the Spanish instructors) called down the hall and asked if we were having classes. I said that I thought so, and she said a student had just told her that afternoon classes were cancelled. I told her I’d hop on-line and recheck the website since I hadn’t checked it since eight o’clock. I opened the door to my office, dropped all my shit on the chair inside the door and turned on the computer. I was planning on going over poetry in my classes, so I packed my bag with several books of poetry as well as my French-French and French-English dictionaries (the big ones–the ones that weigh about five pounds each) so students could look up words they don’t know (i.e. most all of them). I then realized that it was going to take about fifteen more minutes for my ancient computer to load up XP while I had only ten minutes before my class was to start, so I decided to forget looking it up and just go to my class. If classes weren’t cancelled, then looking up what I thought I already knew would make me late. I opted for going to my class and seeing for myself. I really am stupid, after all, you know.

So, me in all my bundled-up fatness, laden down with about fifteen pounds of books, I took off across campus. I saw many other people about now–most of whom looked like students–and so I started thinking that perhaps classes weren’t cancelled. There just weren’t many people out because there aren’t a lot of classes at noon. I walked all the way across campus to Dreiser then skirted the building for the southwest corner where the elevator is. (I don’t trust stairs much to begin with, but I really don’t trust stairs which are wet due to rain or snow.) The doors were locked. Dippy. I went to the northwest corner which was closest. Also locked. I went around to the eastern doors (the ones closest to Root where my office is) and found one that was open. I went in, went to the elevator, rode it to the third floor, and went to my room. Now, while there don’t seem to be lots of classes at noon, there still are many and there are many on the third floor of Dreiser where I teach. No one was up there. < Grumble grumble bitch gripe >

So I pull out my cell phone. It suddenly occurred to me that there had to be an information number I could call to get news on cancellations and the like at ISU; I just had to remember it–or guess it. I started running through numbers I already knew in order to rule them out, and then just dialed one at random because it seemed the most feasible. Indeed, I had found the information hot-line which rattled off in pre-recorded fashion that afternoon classes were cancelled as well. Dippy.

So it was back down the elevator, out the door, all the way back up to Root and to my office so I could drop off the fifteen pounds of books and go home. (Incidentally, it’d be neat if I myself could just as easily drop off fifteen pounds–or fifty. Wishful thinking.) After all, I woke up yesterday to the sound of Ian vomiting, so I knew he was sick and needed medicine and attention . . . or at least sleep. I took a few pictures of the ice-covered everything on the way back as well as saying hi to several cardinals. I dropped off my books, told Keri I was leaving, and then made my way back to the minivan via a long route because I didn’t want to trek over mounds of snow which were covering my usual path. Back in the van, I decided to hit CVS for some Robitussin (or however that’s spelled; I always just mispronounce it anyway). Some red Jeep Cherokee nearly plowed into me and then nearly plowed into crossing traffic at the corner of Poplar and 8th, so that made me feel better about being out. But the rest of the way to CVS was uneventful.

Once there, I got cough syrup, cough drops and some Valentine’s candy to give to Ian (technically, they were Cadbury eggs and a Reese’s egg, but they were next to the V Day candy and I know Ian likes them). I figured Ian could use some comfort food, and it was a day for candy after all. I drove back to the house and when turning into the alleyway where I park the van, the van got stuck. The entrance to the alley is notorious for becoming a giant puddle when it rains, and now it appeared to have become a giant puddle covered in ice/slush/snow to where it was deep enough to trap a big-ass vehicle like mine.

Sorry about that. While you can’t tell a difference in the amount of time I spent writing this, I can, and I just had a student in here and then another meeting, so it’s about an hour and a half after I started posting this, so I may well have lost my train of thought. It might come back to me. We’ll see. Where was I? Oh, right, the Mom-mobile.

So the minivan got stuck. At first I wasn’t sure that it was quite stuck, so I tried pushing a bit more on the gas which resulted in spinning tires. The minivan’s a front-wheel drive, so that alters the sorts of options I have. The thing of the matter is that I can’t just gun it and hope to free myself that way because there are houses very close to the entrance to the alley. One skid to the left or a swerve to the right doesn’t just mean cavorting around like an idiot, it means property damage. So I put her in reverse, managed to pull back about a foot before seeming to get stuck again, then put her in drive and tried to plow my way forward. Long story short (too late), after much of this back-and-forthing (probably three minutes), I finally got her forward enough to get back on more solid ground (still snow and ice, but enough traction to move) and out of the hole. However, I wasn’t about to park in back of the house if it meant going through the same ordeal the next day when I went to leave, so I went through the alley, turned right onto 15th, turned right again on Walnut, then turned right once more to be back on Gilbert. There, I parked on the street in front of Ian’s snow-covered Grandma-mobile, the ass of the van sticking out about a foot more than I’d’ve liked, but parked nonetheless and grabbed my stuff to go inside.

Our steps in front of the house were covered in snow, and I noticed where the mailman had slipped on one of them. Taking a 20 on my spot check, I noticed that the snow/ice had frozen in such a way as to make a forty-five degree angle ramp of the stone steps. There was no way to step down squarely on the steps since the levants were packed against with “wintry mix.” Pfft. I shoved the stuff from CVS into my satchel and managed to finagle my way up the stairs to the door where I grabbed the mail, jammed my thumb against the door opening it, and pushed inside whereupon I dropped all my gear on the couch so as to remove snow-crusted shoes, socks and slacks. I hate winter.

I put the candies in a little Valentine’s gift bag on Ian desk with a note bearing “I love you” in three different languages (none of them English) then went to see how my Baby Doll was faring with his cold. He got some cough syrup in his system, and we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening playing WoW and trying to ignore the horrific floes of ice and drifts of snow outside. At one point, I went out to try and rectify the ice ramp which I call the front steps, but the shovel broke in half thereby resigning me to indoor activities of slothfulness. I’d be slothful today as well were it not for the University opening and office hours pending and meetings to attend. So now I’m here and have every intention of trying to do something productive before I leave in the next hour. Maybe I’ll check my e-mail. I don’t do that everyday. But first, a cuppa. My fingers still ache from the cold. Or maybe it’s from all the typing.