April 5, 2016

Unaccustomed jollity and relaxed atmosphere at rehearsal. Not so relaxed that I shouldn’t get a start on learning my lines.
   
Cold in the study, in the whole house.  The furnace went out the night before last, and though the weather is not the worst it could be for such an occasion, I’m averse to cold and it weighs on me. Tom the Furnace man says he’ll have it fixed by this afternoon. Tremendous noise as I sat in the living room watching TV, some sprocket or toothed wheel shedding all its teeth at once.
   
Tuesday is officially free, though filled up now with meetings and repairs and appointments so that it might as well be another work day. Actually, a perfect storm of distractions. Tom the furnace man grinds away at something in the basement. He calls and I stagger down the steps and he says “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Officials from various parts of Administration took over our department meeting to tell us the various ways in which we were expected to do their jobs for them. The faculty is thought of as a support system for the administration. Cart not merely before the horse, but wholly detached from it.
   
Email from the never-arriving pond people thanking me for my patience. Patience is a vice. It fosters dereliction.
   
Pulling up infinitudes of wild chives. Arranging the crates and boxes for tonight’s hard freeze. 
   
Yet my bloodroots make a drift of white in the shadow of the house.  For that, praise.