Imagine!

I skipped Baha'i school today and spent the better part of the day trying to get my apartment in some sort of order. As I'm wont to do, I've let it all go to hell in the span of a month. Apparently you have to pick things up, dust, vacuum, sweep and do the dishes and the laundry or everything will turn into a dirty, intolerable mess. I think domestic responsibility is going to be beaten into me the hard way over a period of time. As much of an anal control freak as I am about just about everything else under the sun, it's beyond even me as to why I can't stay on top of this sort of thing.

Last week I managed to get two parking tickets in the same day. Officer George is now my sworn enemy. Apparently he patrols Linden Avenue without mercy! You would think my out-of-state license plate would have persuaded him to give me some slack, but apparently not. So I have to pay the Village of Wilmette $50 and see how many days I can survive on Ramen noodles until Friday (pay day). I'm about as fiscally responsible as I am domestically responsible, although I am learning the former far faster than the latter, mostly because of the difference in severity if I don't.

Sometimes it's really sort of lamentable that I work in the Publishing Trust building instead of the National Center. I don't get to see or meet all of the people over there except at general staff meetings, which is hardly a time for socializing. But one of the nice things is that the Publishing Trust houses the records and staff of the Temple Conservation Office. Last week I saw a picture of what the inside of the House of Worship was supposed to look like, according to Louis Bourgeois's vision. Although it's only a picture of one of the sort of panels that would have been inside, which would basically have followed the lace-like appearance of the outside, one of the staff members explained to me that he originally wanted ribs going up the side of the Temple embedded with sapphires and rubies, etc. Imagine!

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Survival

I'm having a very amusing time of living on my own. The amusement derives largely from my own overwhelming incompetence when it comes to anything that might remotely be considered "domestic." A perfect example of this is right before I sat down to write this entry I decided to get a glass of water. I use a water filter for any kind of water that goes into my body. Although I trust the water treatment people in Wilmette, I grew a little suspect when I read their Annual Water Report:

At times, the quality of the raw lake water that enters the water plant is affected by the opening of the locks operated by the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District of Greater Chicago (MWRDGC), or from runoff from the use of fertilizers and herbicides on area lawns and golf courses.

The MWRDGC owns and controls a set of locks located in Wilmette Harbor that are occasionally opened during heavy rainfall events to release sewer overflow into the lake. These contaminants, however, do not affect the quality or the safety of the finished water that is delivered to consumers.

Anyway, I digress. When I was lifting up the water pitcher to pour the water, I realized too late that I had leaned an open box of linguini against it. In the process of trying to save the box of linguini, it spilled all over the floor along with the water. And I had just cleaned the floor this morning. The moral of the story is that I can't even pour a glass of water without some small disaster occurring.

Although its followed my pathetic attempt at cooking bacon and eggs (the bacon looked like two thin strips of licorice), I do have a minor success to report. I made a meatloaf! All right, all right. I admit it's no triumph of culinary greatness but it's the most edible thing I've made to date. Also the oven did not send out billows of black smoke this time, which was really more exciting than the success of the meatloaf. The only complaint I have about the meatloaf is that it called for some brown sugar for some reason. I initially thought it would be nice, but in the end it just made it too sweet. And I also put in too much pepper. I'll figure out this spicing thing in the next decade, I'm sure.

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