Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

When Mike was still getting up a whole lot later than I was, we put a little travel clock in the bathroom so that I wouldn’t have to open the door and disturb him with bright blinding bathroom light to know what time it was in the mornings. Now that he and I get up at essentially the same time, the clock is somewhat less important. Which explains, somewhat, why I didn’t reset it after the time change in November. Now, suddenly, the clock is right again. It sure used to seem longer between the two. (I know it literally WAS longer, but . . . not THAT much longer.)

This week at my library, I moved things around. This is a shocking turn of events for those who know me, because I never move anything around at my house. Ever. I don’t even understand the motivation to move things around. This is how the furniture fits in this room. I thought it through before I put it here, and here it will stay. End of story. But, no! At work, I am a whole different person, one who moves shelves around (okay, no, before you ask, I did not move a shelf by myself. Or at all. But I had someone else move it for me)! And shifts books! And cleans out old artwork! (By old, I mean the students who created it are now in college!) And hangs up new posters! I rock and roll. People keep walking in the door and then stopping, confused. But, overall, I think it looks great. Don’t worry, though. I won’t be trying it at home.

Earlier this week, I watched No Country For Old Men. The deal was that Mike, who saw the movie when it was in theaters, would warn me before any violent deaths. The problem is that lately, every time we put in a movie, Mike falls asleep almost instantly. While he got me through most of it, he missed the ending. Luckily, I am quite experienced at looking away, so I never saw anything I didn’t want to see (though I probably looked away for about 25% of the movie). It’s not the sort of thing I usually like, but what I did like about it was that, though it was violent, it wasn’t, to me, a movie that was promoting senseless violence. I haven’t read much Cormac McCarthy, but his books seem to be the opposite of that as they deal with themes of life and death. Instead, I think this was a movie about the progression of time and how we as a society seem to . . . almost revel in violence, as evidenced by slasher films. It was like a mirror to the audience, causing us to question the function of violence as entertainment. I also appreciated the treatment of death (it had to be death, because it is, after all, Cormac McCarthy) and how death is coming for us all. Though justice was not served, it did serve as a reminder to accept mortality and not to “blink” (as Tommy Lee Jones said he had) and miss the life that we were given. And while I was writing this, I think I just talked myself into reading the book.

Last night, I was struck by how much more time Mike and I spend together these days. We carpooled yesterday and today, we had dinner at a restaurant close to my school last night and then went to the art sale/show at my school. This week we watched movies and took walks and . . . so much of this is why I switched jobs in the first place. Now it’s time for Friday Night Pizza and the ACC tournament. Life these days? Not so bad.

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