I started a new temp assignment today, giving general office help at the School of Nursing amongst the tangle of hospitals on Portland’s Marquam Hill. (We also call it Pill Hill. Cute, don’t you think?) Wanting to stay warm on a foggy, cool morning, I wore my “middle” coat, the yellow padded one, for the first time this half of year. (I have three coats. The light one, the blue one, keeps out rain and nothing else. The yellow one is larger and thicker. The red one can be – and has been – used as an impromptu sleeping bag.) Keeping my torso warm and my head cool is close to my ideal atmosphere, and fall provides lots of that. I like fall.
It was a laid-back office where I worked: nicely quiet, especially since my last job was on a food-packing line AND EVERYTHING YOU SAY MUST BE SAID LIKE THIS. AND REPEATED. TO BE HEARD OVER THE MACHINERY, YOU UNDERSTAND. Good. Point made. I can stop speaking like that. Shouting’s not ideal for me.
When not at work, I’m doing a nice little project: reading an entire novel out loud. It’s the new novel Murder of Angels, by Caitlín R. Kiernan, someone I try to support, whether it’s by reading her books or by sending her amusements via both the web and snail mail. And her work benefits from being said out loud, I’ve decided – I need to get to one of her readings some day – so this is my attempt to put my mouth where my mind is. Um, OK, weird way of putting it. Must be the cold.