Gray day. The cathedral bells just struck the noon hour. Last night I became anxious because I could not remember hearing them. We’ve lived here for over twenty years, so naturally we don’t notice the carillion, but I hated the thought of yet another pocket of silence. I listened and they rang their final hour of 9:00 pm.
More Zoom conversations yesterday afternoon. My boss’s personality is indelibly stamped with her background in theater and dance. Five years ago, on a dark rainy night, a city bus grazed her. She did a spinning pirouette and kept her footing, landing in fourth position and coming away with nothing more than a scraped and bruised elbow from hitting the side of the bus. My favorite quote, from her, during a department heads meeting years ago that got rather testy — “I’m not angry. I’m dramatic!”
She’s gotten the hang of Zoom now, so the camera came on in closeup, showing her freshly applied lipstick and the scarf she’d tied jauntily around her neck and making me conscious that I was not wearing a bra and had not brushed my hair. Our film curator was in a t-shirt and looked like he needed to trim his beard.
It was a good conversation, another little nudge out of the somnolence I mentioned the other day. The world is off balance but still spinning and we will, I pray, keep our footing. I still have a job, such as it is.
Pam Troy 