Schoolhouse Rock

Sunday night before the new school term starts tomorrow. I think by now it is pretty firmly established that I LIKE going to school. I’ve been going to school every chance I could get for the last few decades. So why do I still feel that gnawing Sunday night pre-school anxiety? Up until yesterday I was really psyched for it, I’ve been going through course listings like I had a gift certificate to the J. Crew catalogue. Perhaps I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by the fact that I’m planning on trying on six or seven classes in the next two days before I decided which three to keep and which four to send back. Or maybe it’s the fact that in addition to showing up for classes, I actually have to teach one as well.

Elsewhere in the news, I have done a pretty decent job of cleaning house in preparation for the new term. A final dilemma is what to do with my bike. We have no area outdoors that is protected from the elements, and I’m not stalwart enough to want to carry it up our narrow staircase each time I want to use it, so I keep trying to come up with a discreet place to put in the living space. The best idea I can come up with is to suspend it from the wall or ceiling in a corner where we keep a little dining table. The problem is that it will then be pretty much hanging over our dining table.

“Do you think that might work?” I ask Paul. “How to you think it would be if I hung it there?”

“Well,” he says, “I guess it would be kind of like when people mount a fish on their wall…like if it was a really big fish that was a bicycle.”

Yeah.

One thought on “Schoolhouse Rock

  1. reminds me of that line from one of those old school feminists: ‘a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle’… not to imply that a woman doesn’t need paul. all women need a little paul in their lives. or hanging over the dining table like a bike.

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