I’m at home, waiting for the courier. They said they would be here at 2, and it is almost 2:30 now. I have been home since 1:40, because I was paranoid they would come early, see I wasn’t home, and just leave again. This parcel has been in transit for over a week now, and they ominously told me on the phone last night that this is the final attempt. Those two words sound very ominous, don’t they? Especially for a situation that isn’t my fault.
I brought marking home with me. Right now the only constant in my life is marking.
It’s now 3:10 and still no parcel. I am torn about what I should be doing now. I really want to have a bath, but I know the instant I get in is when there will be a knock on the door. I also could be making squash gnocchi for the Anthropology department party tonight. But again, the instant I get my hands gunked up is the instant that I will hear a knock on the door. I guess I could do more marking. Or a nap. But I know again that there will be a knock on the door. Maybe I should tempt the Fates and see what happens.
Boy, you can really see when technology begins to degrade. This picture I took about 5 minutes ago, using my digital camera. This camera owes me nothing, as it is from 1998, it is an Olympus D220L and the highest resolution is 640X480.
I bought this camera when I was in Toronto for my Poppa’s funeral in October of 1998. It’s funny how you remember little things like that. I was excited to be in Toronto and for having the chance to buy a camera, even though I couldn’t really afford it. I can’t even remember where I got the money for it. It must have been from my stint as an Operator for Bell Canada. Yeah, that must have been it, because it would have been that summer when I started this journal, and worked for Bell and moved in with Chris and his parents. So much has changed since then. It’s kind of amusing.
The lens on this camera is really starting to go, or the pixel sensor or whatever you want to call it. I guess it is about time to retire the old girl and get some new thing. I really would like to have a digital SLR I think. I have been playing with some of the old cameras I used to collect, and I have somehow gotten myself interested in taking pictures again. I only request that the purchase of a new camera doesn’t have anything to do with another funeral, please.
The photo is Tia in her second-favourite spot, curled up in the back cushions of the couch. They are the new ones I made when I recovered the couch, and are two down pillows in a slipcover. Tia has learned that she can squash the cushion down to make a perfect little bowl, quite adequate for containing cat flesh.
Well, 3:40pm and no parcel. This is frustrating. I am off to ice my neck, make gnocchi, and figure out something meaningful to say.