i have an office. it's an office in a campus building, and i have to share it with two other people; nonetheless, however, it is my office. it's four walls with one window, and the window is also mine. i sit in front of the window almost everyday.
to see it, you'd think the window wouldn't show me very much on any given day or night; it faces a strange windblock structure, through which a parking lot is visible. the psychology building looms watchfully from a block's distance. a tree and a tall streetlamp also occupy the window's framed vision.
from my chair, i can clearly spy 10 offices in the psychology building. while during the day i have a difficult time making much of anything out of what is going on over there, at night, i can see quite distinctly the custodian, methodically and efficiently maintaining his post. he starts a little before 9 o'clock, and by 10:30 he is out of my range. occasionally, i'll catch the glow from some out of sight office through the tree - it's now new leaves becoming strangely backlit.
i'm not sure why i find the custodian so absolutely riveting. whenever i do catch a chance to watch him, i'm glued to the window until at least 10:30. his routine seems to calm the general chaos of my own life.
now and again, i'll tell him to remember the garbage, just in case he was going to forget it. room by room, we become a team. i somehow lose myself in something that'd go on without me, yet i'm convinced he'd have forgotten the garbage in 2c if i hadn't reminded him. it's strange, but it's my thing.
to steal from those sages of our own era, the writers of "sex and the city", watching the custodian is one of my secret single behaviors - those things i do when no one else is around. i have a few of them; i once sat down and established the list.
they are as follows:
- becoming a team with the custodian in the psychology building
- sitting on one kitchen counter and putting my feet up on the other, thus spanning the space of our galley kitchen with my legs, and putting a magazine on my thighs to read while i eat a bowl of cereal (i've luckily had several kitchens that accommodate this behavior)
- watching cartoon network regardless of how bad the cartoon is
- singing the star-spangled banner on a continuous loop
- studying the freckles on my back, occasionally doing imaginary connect-the-dots
- writing long sentences with my left hand
- making unnecessary lists of personal information
molly's p.s. - today, adam and i had spaghetti for lunch; it was pretty tasty. i didn't see anyone of great import, but i've been meeting a lot of new people lately - i'm not sure what that means for my love life, if anything. my mom thinks i've begun to fill out, as easter was the first time she hasn't yelled at me for being too thin in probably 4 years. however, i haven't gained any weight, so i must be shrinking. at least, now, i'm thinking of lily tomlin instead of fiona apple.
posted by brett @ 11:28 PM
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