two: yesterday

wore purple socks, black pinstriped trousers, plain grey t-shirt, and a red quarter-sleeved jacket that clever sister made and bequeathed to me once upon a time. walked out my front door to a blaring yellow morning.

hopped onto a few buses, that Weird Al song in my ears, and arrived on campus just before half past eight.

walked past this amusing combination of tree and bicycle.

stopped. tried to angle the photo halfway-decently.

used the proper key to unlock my office. (some mornings I try with my house key. it doesn't work.)

sat down in what has been known in the office as "the Seamus Haney chair." it's blue. the arms of it are leaking their upholstered guts out onto your sleeves.

looked for a moment into the camera-mirror, still on from the bike-in-the-tree memorialization. made faces. took a few photographs for no reason whatsoever.

I guess the reason was simply to look at myself. how often do you do that, really?

blogged. checked emails. read some, wrote some. met with students. printed a bunch of things. forgot to print a few other things.

sometimes I wonder if there's a way to get a real outside perspective on my own day-to-day everything. is there a way to access the secret recording of my life that the universe might be keeping in its memory banks somewhere? what file formats would I be able to download that in, do you think?

other times I realize that there is no such recording. I have to make my own. I have to cobble this picture together using camera-mirrors and words and scrapbooks and other people's reactions to whoever I am and whatever I do. maybe the universe isn't recording--it's not a camera--but it might be a mirror. reminds me of some of these musings.

yesterday's version of me is cool with how the day turned out, I hope.