jinx points out that I have posted four times in a row about doing laundry. all I can say in my defense is that my laundry is a really big deal because I own so many socks that I only do it a few times a year and it's this huge production with backpacks and duffel bags and special detergent for the silk underwear--if it helps, I won't write about it again for six weeks or more.

I must get to that syllabus but first I will describe for you how eerie it is to have the BART train stop in the middle the tunnel and all the lights go out save one or two by each door and total silence except for distant rumbles and what I suppose were slamming switches so I don't know if everyone lost power or just us but there we sat, nervously laughing. the operator kept saying she would pass on further information about why we were "holding" when she got it but she never did tell us what the problem was. after about ten minutes the train powered back up and off we went.

I kept thinking how much air is in this car and will we have the presence of mind to open the doors before we suffocate. the fans were off. everything dead still.

yeah. that's my story for the week.