Janitor's Saga

Hit perfection just at quitting time, 100 degrees and 100% humidity, and finally it rained. A long day, with many trips up and down in the world, I just wanted to get home, get a drink, eat something, but I have to think about tomorrow, when I do really need to be at the museum, and about half-way home, realize I need to park at the bottom of the hill, because the driveway will be slick and I won't be able to trust my line going down. Fuck me in August. I need to walk up. Coming in on Mackletree I see the phone lines are down, I can't SEND but I can probably write as electricity comes from the other direction. And it's true. When I get home the phone is out but I have power, in a certain limited context. 86 degrees inside the house and I turn on the air-conditioner. Drenched with sweat, from the walk up the hill, I strip down to my unders and drape wet clothes on the backs of chairs. A marginal existence. Like winter, only the opposite thermal index. At this latitude you get thirty really cold days and thirty really hot days every year, either you deal with it or get a thermostat that you can set, and pay someone else to handle the vagaries of weather. Piero di Cosimo (1462-1521) lived exclusively on boiled eggs, he boiled them in the glue he used for sizing in his pigments. To make my day, there is a package in the mailbox, a box of 'Mo Mil Kook So' noodles. Korean, made from acorn starch. Yes, I think, it's all coming together, but I don't know what any of it means. I decide to not mop before the benefit, would be a waste of time, no one notices the floor until the light spills over, and I have way too much on my plate.