In Which I Am Crabby

I woke up this morning in the pre-dawn darkness and came out to the living room to find an awful lot of light on the patio. First I wondered if there was a full moon, but then I realized it was coming from the Russians' flat. About a year ago, as you may remember, they installed French doors and a Juliet balcony where once there was only a window. When they have the lights on and the drapes open, those French doors are lit up like the stage at Royal Albert Hall.

I don't remember noticing this phenomenon before, so I don't think they have the lights on and the drapes open all that often. Which is a good thing.

Holy cow, was I crabby yesterday! I surprised even myself. I had one episode of crabbiness while waiting in the lunch line at work, when for a variety of reasons the line took much longer than usual and then people behind me started getting served before me. I threw up my hands and said, "I'll just get a sandwich," which entails simply grabbing one from a display near the cash register and thus doesn't require standing in line at all. And that's what I did.

This resulted in one of the catering managers bringing a hot entree to my desk, which I felt bad about, but I appreciated the gesture. I'd already eaten my sandwich by that time but I figured I'd bring the entree home for dinner.

I spent part of the afternoon helping another librarian put up a display in the Middle School:

She asked all the kids to make little book spines showing their favorite book that they read over the summer. Then she assembled them all into "shelves." Here's a close-up:

As you can see, "The Hunger Games" remains a popular title. Would a sixth-grader really understand "The Lord of the Flies"? Or "No Country for Old Men"?! One eighth-grader said they read "Lolita," which kind of blew my mind.

Anyway, when the day finally ended I began walking home only to realize, about a third of the way there, that I'd left my lunch entree in the refrigerator at work. Argh! So I turned around, walked back, collected my entree, and took the tube home -- and here's where I had my second episode of crabbiness.

I disembarked from the tube at my stop and made my way up the stairs amid throngs of people, listening to the "Q-Anon Anonymous" podcast the whole time. One of my pet peeves is people who stand in front of the exit gates on the tube rummaging around for their wallets or tube cards. To my way of thinking, if you don't have your card ready, you should step aside and find it rather than blocking a gate so others can't get out.

Well, a discombobulated woman with a suitcase was standing in front of a gate looking for her card, and she was adjusting the layers of coats she seemed to be wearing for some reason, and then her suitcase fell over (as rolling bags are prone to do), blocking a second exit gate. I happened to be approaching that gate. I didn't even look at her -- I scanned my card, STEPPED OVER HER BAG, and walked through the gate. It was only on the other side that I thought, "Geez, maybe I should have helped that woman!"

My only defense is that when you live in a big city, particularly if you've lived in them for a quarter of a century like I have, you learn to keep your head down and your eyes forward. It's a form of urban armor, and it was exacerbated by the fact that I had my earbuds in and was listening to a podcast. So, yeah, it was an obnoxious thing to do -- and it brought to mind my Zen friend's comment about my heart -- but I think defensible under the circumstances.

Maybe I need another vacation.