. . . Mazel Tov! How cool is that? Would someone get me a literal translation, please?—my copy of The Joys of Yiddish is in the other room, and I can't move.

I don't know how insightful I'll be for the next month or two; obviously, blogging here will be light until I learn the ropes at the new job.

I believe the cliche is "tired but happy." I'm getting a crash-course on office procedures and stylistic preferences. All very well and good, but after a while one begins to feel exhausted from the strain of listening and trying to remember it all.

And it isn't like you can even say to yourself, "well, I've been working hard," because getting trained is such a passive act. One doesn't necessary have a story to show for it at the end of the day (though tomorrow I should rack up some more conventional accomplishments).

Here's a cool perk, though: I work across from a mall, which means I can pick up anything I need on my lunch hour or after work. As I understand the municipal code, however, I won't be permitted to move in, because chain stores are picky about vagrancy laws and such.

* * *

It turns out that the foot we thought my husband had sprained is broken. This means he won't be able to run his marathon this summer, which is terrible for him, but better than some of his coaches have suffered through in the injury arena: he's only losing several weeks, yet they are weeks he couldn't afford to lose if he was going to finish the stupid thing—much less achieve a decent time.

Of course, Attila the Hub is way too thoughtful to call during the week and let me know bad news like that, but I find out on my way home. I'm horrified, so I come home and bring him grapes as an appetizer, followed by a steak omelet, a tonic and lime and blueberries with creme fraiche on top for dessert. It's not co-dependent if he's injured, ya know.

Then I pour a real gin and tonic for myself.

Sleep won't come easily tonight, but I'll need to make it happen.

* * *

I really don't know what the correct imagery is to describe what I'm feeling right now: it's like that moment when you've been climbing a trail up a mountain, enduring switchbacks for miles, and suddenly glimpse the sky through the trees up ahead.

You realize you're within a quarter mile of camp, and you climb on.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:16 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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