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3:01 p.m. - July 03, 2002
Macho macho man wilting in the heat
The heat index says it is 107 degrees out.

I am staying in this building until I'm certain it's safe. Unfortunate I do not carry around my toothbrush. Unfortunate there is nothing to look at in the quad below, not a nubile sun worshipper performing rites, not an aerobics class, nary a friggin breeze.

Was in the library for a few hours and when I exited to head towards my building the heat reminded me of Thanksgiving when you reach into the oven to pull out the turkey, except that to fully understand this heat I'd have to say it's like walking into a closet-sized oven naked without benefit of mitts and the door shuts behind you and there isn't even a turkey to keep you company.

A non-capacity-intelligent library clerk remarked that I look like no university professor she's ever seen, a comment made when I flashed my ID card to verify that yes, I have the right to assign library duties to clerks waiting for work (I love this perk). She apparently did not want to play run and fetch for two hours and be immortalized in my Acknowledgments but in the end she did collect the materials I needed. She irked me.

Speaking of irk. Squirrely T.A. stays in my office while Friendly Boob T.A. avoids it. Just my luck. Is there some divine message there? If so, I don't want it. Squirrely T.A. is present and keying verbal notes relevant to next week's sessions that I make between writing here. Powerful, I feel powerful. I wonder if he knows about me; I've been thinking about this since Spec told me about gaydar over the weekend. Apparently gaydar is gay radar, meaning they know who is and who isn't somehow and in some way that is unclear to me. Paranoia, that, so I've been countering it: Sitting astraddle the chair, unbuttoning my shirt so he can see that there are 12 hairs there and thus am non-twinkish, talking about my ex-girlfriend. Heh.

Really, I'm not doing that. But thinking it. Maybe my brainwaves will affect his radar apparatus.

 

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