I feel a lot better than I did about an hour ago. It may have to do with
having eaten supper. Or perhaps because I laughed during meal time. Maybe
it’s because my sister sprained, and possibly, broke her ankle today, and I’m
not in as much pain as she is.

Pain. It’s not that bad, really. I’m upstairs in the new room we recently
built. Our new found Australian friends left today, so the room, and
therefore the computer in it, is now free. This is good because my brother
is on the computer downstairs. I’ve got the incandescent lamp in the corner
turned on to illuminate the room in a soft glow. I turned the computer
monitor’s contrast knob all the way down so that it wouldn’t be glaring into
my eyes. All because I have a headache.

The reason for my discomfort no doubt lies in my erratic sleeping habits. I
took a nap yesterday afternoon and consequently didn’t realize just how late
it was last night when I quitted the Internet and hit my Greek homework. It
was 2 or 2:30 a.m. by the time I finally gave up and went to bed. I needed
to get up early the next morning because my picture was being taken at school
today along with all the other award recipients at the religion department
and honor society ceremony, where I got the Greek award. Dr. Berry, my Greek
instructor, told me to show up at the chapel on Monday morning to get
photographed. I asked if I should wear anything special.

The last time I got my photo taken at school was after I received the
Elementary (first year) Greek award two years ago. Dr. Berry had accosted me
in the hall that morning and requested my presence in the photograph. He
suggested I wear something nice. “Look,” I’d told him, “I have classes from
now till then, and I live half an hour away. There’s no way I can change
clothes.” So that photo portrayed several young men in coats and ties and me
standing there in my UM t-shirt.

This time I decided to ask beforehand what I should wear. “Wear whatever
would make you look as you would like to appear in the paper and the Alabama
Baptist” something or other, he answered. “Oh,” I said, “So I could dye my
hair pink and wear chains and ripped clothes and…” “Wear a dress!” he cut
me off.

So this morning saw me getting up early to don a denim dress. As I drove to
school, I realized that I was going to arrive there much earlier than I
needed to. I suddenly remembered that my alarm had been set, not for the
usual time I get up on Fridays, but the much too early time I had to rise
this Saturday in order to attend a conference with Mom. I got to school a
full 45 minutes before I actually needed to be there. Not having anything
else to do, and not feeling like doing much of anything, I parked near the
chapel, where we were supposed to get our pictures taken, leaned my head
back, and fell asleep in my car.

At 8:55, no one else was showing up for photographs. Another epiphany hit
me. Perhaps Dr. Berry had said 9:55 and not 8:55. That would certainly seem
the case. Sighing, I slugged my book bag over my shoulder and entered the
Fine Arts Building. Inside there was a note taped to the door to my
classroom reading, “Dr. Berry’s 9:00 Greek class will not meet today. Have
the assigned text translated for Wednesday.” Double sigh. Not only had I
gotten up much earlier than I thought I had to, my first class was even
canceled. I trudged to the snack shop, purchased a machine chugged
cappuccino, and sat down at an empty table to work on my Greek.

Cris Hyatt came in, spotted me, and sat down. She and I are running for
president and vice-president of the Senior Class respectively. We ran last
year together as well. She won, and I lost. This year, my competitor
decided not to seek re-election, leaving a void for me to fill. And it
appears I will fill it. “No one has signed up to run against us,” Cris told
me, “and the deadline is over.” “So now we can campaign needlessly?” I
asked. “Hey!” I added, “Let’s make signs that say, ‘VOTE… like it
matters.’”

A couple of other people joined us, but I had to leave them in order to get
to the chapel to try to get my picture taken again. There didn’t seem to be
anyone over there, but as I approached, one of the guys I know was standing
nearby with a tie on. Sure sign of someone hopefully photogenic, I thought.
We were approached by a couple of other well dressed people looking out of
place. Then one of the religion professors showed up, soon followed by
someone carrying a camera. I got to class late.

After Public Administration, I told my friend Paul that I wouldn’t be able to
meet him after class on Tuesday like I’d said I would because I had to go
scorpion shopping. He nodded. About 30 seconds later he asked, “Scorpion
shopping?”

(Update. My head is better and the downstairs computer with the only working
modem is finally free.)