Chaos, Inc.

Here are a few things I've forgotten recently:

1. my lunch.
2. my office keys, still stuck in my door.
3. a book I was supposed to bring for a student.
4. where my iPad happened to be stashed. Seriously. It was under my chair, and I had to use Find My iPad. It sang a soothing but persistent song to me from under the chair. Like, what kind of jerk leaves an iPad under a chair? but in dulcet bell tones.

Also, tonight when I was trying  to tell my son about a piece in USA Today about Kyle Korver, and the historian simultaneously reached for a handful of caramel popcorn and accidentally, gently, knocked over an empty soda bottle--nothing was broken--and also simultaneously Bruiser made a "let's go on a walk dammit!" noise of whatever kind, and also at the same time I noticed that my house was dirty and the Christmas tree is still up,  I almost lost it.

I've always said I thrive on chaos. Which is kind of true, until it isn't. And then it's more like chaos is eating my brains out and also making a hella lotta noise while doing so, which means I might be losing my mind whilst also feeling mighty tetchy about it.

You know how this narrative is supposed to go. I'm supposed to figure out a solution. But frankly, on a day when I sent this text to my son:

because I had to conference with students at 6 p.m. and 6:20 p.m. and 7 p.m., and moreover tomorrow I have to be at work directly at 8 a.m. (what are we? farmers?), I have not one solution in mind. Literally: not. one.

I need:

(a) a cleaning robot with super-cleaning-robot powers. Like, the CleanBot 2000, with detachable Sorting Arm and an Executive Get-Rid-Of-That chip, for a 30% less cluttered home™.

(b) a DeLorean, so I can go back to the future, and make better choices about all kinds of things, including my Amazon purchases and my personal organizational habits.

(c) a full night's sleep.

Obviously, I'm not going to get any of these things. So basically, I'm going to try for 80% of (c) and see how that goes. Untidily, probably.

Thought-free zone.

It is too hot to think.

Instead of thinking, I did this:

• took Bruiser for a spritely walk.
• bought Sprite for singing son, because he had a sick stomach.
• drove to Park City to work on a syllabus with colleague.
• kvetched about work with colleague. (I have to get in practice for the regular academic year--the marathon event of kvetching about work.)
• went to lunch with colleague and talked about television and movies. And kvetched about work.
• went to the Gap outlet store where I picked up a skirt and walked around with it, spritzed myself with Grass eau de cologne which I have a nostalgic fondness for even though these days it smells like the chemical formula for "grass." Put the skirt back. Bought nothing.
• drove down the mountain to a meeting.
• went to meeting.
• kvetched about work with another colleague, after the meeting.
• drove home.
• arrived at the same time as the historian. Whined about the heat. Turned on the swamp cooler. Poured myself a tall glass of ice water.

Which brings us to now. We are preparing for an evening of crosswords and television and some dinner at some point, with possible ancillary heat-related whining (on my part--the historian does not whine. Seriously: never.). Also, many iced beverages.

Dear Weather Robot,

My husband reports to me that there's supposed to be a cold front, which he heard about on the radio while driving home. What does the term "cold front" mean, with respect to how hot it is now? And the fact that it's August? I just want some assurance that the Doppler Radar, or whatever, is correct about this, and that I will recognize it when it happens. Tell me, Weather Robot, what will the weather be like?

Sincerely, htms

Dear Hightouchmegastore,

Today the weather is like this:

Please do note that, while the temperature is 96 degrees, it feels like a mere 91 degrees! I'm sure that, if you happen to be currently taking a cool shower, while sipping a Slurpee and thinking of Antarctica, you will concur.

On Friday, however, the weather will be like this:

77 degrees, with scattered T-storms, is cool enough that it doesn't have to feel like anything more or less than its own damn self.

Robotically yours, with hints of rain,

The Weather Robot.