I know they have to hold the member drive and raise money for "Car Talk," etc., but I am still not even a little bit motivated to send a pledge to NPR. I keep waiting for even the slight tingling of the tipping point where I'll start to feel a little convinced, like, "Wait, what kind of tote bag are they giving away? A subscription to which magazine?" So far, I haven't even felt the littlest bit like calling in and hearing my gift make a pling noise on the other end. Maybe if I were more flush.
Play writing class today and I have nothing to bring in and I decided I don't care about that either. In other news, my bike has finally made it out of the basement to sit next to the radiator for the next couple of months. No, I am going to try to actually ride it soon...Still need to take it to the bike shop and get the tires filled and find the key for the lock and buy a helmet and so I'm certain that by August, I will have ridden at least up the block a piece. I really think that working at GOL has freaked me out about bike riding, since every third story about brain death started with, "She was riding her bike down 8th Street in South Philly when she was hit by a garbage truck. Yes, she wore a helmet. Yes, she had the tires filled. Yes, she was a responsible citizen though not necessarily a philanthropist." Plus, how do you ride a bike in a skirt? Or do I have to wear Speedos and those amphibian-looking biking slippers?
Dreamt last night that I was moving into a huge high-rise filled with undergraduates on Temple's campus. They spelled my name wrong on the directory key, and included tons of personal information like my ss# and IM address for anyone to see. Then, a nurse in a tri-cornered hat and Red Cross cape came to ask me personal questions about my physical and sexual history in front of a few of my friends. My dreams are sometimes just so unsubtle, it's laughable.