Psychic Weight

Yesterday started leisurely enough. I picked one last handful of blackberries for my cereal, being careful to wade into the bushes only after I'd put on my long pants and long-sleeved shirt to thwart any insidious flower bugs. (My itchy arms, by the way, are slowly getting better, but it's been, what, three weeks?)

By the time I got out the door I was running a bit late for work, so I decided to take the tube instead of walking. Problem was, the tube wasn't running. Or it was, but with "severe delays." I got to West Hampstead station and there were about 200 people on the platform and no train in sight. So I texted my boss and said I was walking and I'd be a bit late. She didn't take me to task. After all, I can't control the tube.

It wound up being another incredibly busy day, mostly with re-shelving and numerous classes having library orientation. Some of you asked about covering books and what that entails. You know when you get a library book it often has a clear plastic film over the dust jacket, to protect it? Well, that's a book cover, and that's what I put on. Paperbacks get a different type of clear plastic that adheres to the cover. I'll take some photos the next time I cover books so you can see what I mean.

Anyway, the day sped by, and I walked home in the afternoon just in time to get rained on. We do need rain, so I am not complaining -- well, not too much -- but I got rained on Monday too. Why does it have to rain right at 4:45 p.m. when I'm walking home?

I got home damp, again, and Dave said, "Why didn't you take your umbrella?"

"Because if I had it would have been like the Mojave Desert out there and I'd have been carrying around a 40-pound umbrella for nothing," I said.

"Your umbrella weighs 40 pounds?" Dave said.

(I hate carrying anything as a rule. I will always opt to endure minor discomfort if it means I can leave things at home.)

"It's psychic weight," I said.

(Photo: A newsagent in Soho, on Saturday.)