Aghhhhh, life

A third drop splattered on the floor from the jagged crack in the ceiling.

Time to get up.

By the time the fourth drop hit, Ceilí was up with a cup of coffee clutched in her thin fist. That coffee was her lifeline to the world, the only reason she would be able to go to work this morning. She carefully laid a green plaid towel on the puddle of water on the floor and nudged it with her toe.

I'll never get out of here if I have to keep making these repairs myself.

A call to her cellphone caused the nightstand to buzz and hum. A pair of glasses, disturbed by the vibration, walked themselves off the edge and onto the cheap hardwood floors. Ceilí unclasped one hand from the warm coffee and picked up the phone, flipping it open in an awkward jerk.

"Hello?"

A minute later, the phone was back on the night stand and Ceilí was back in the reclining armchair that served both as her bed and kitchen table. The principal of the school had been nearly in tears, explaining the situation.

"We lost the entire west hall. The roof gave way and this damned rain flooded the entire place. The desks were floating!" had squawked through the speakers.

All of Ceilí's condolences managed only to result in more tears, so Ceilí gave up.

At least I teach on the east hall.

Outside her apartment, Ceilí pondered the options for the now free day as she walked down to the post boxes to pick up the mail.

9/12/2010- 7:13:06- 3 men are loitering in the lobby. Room 414 is empty again.

Clicking footsteps warned of the arrival of someone important. Ceilí turned and noticed the landlady moving down the hallway at a nice clip.

"Ma'am?"

Ceilí almost had to block the hallway in order to halt the landlady's advance.

A frustrated "Yes?" from the woman.

"The crack in my ceiling is still there, and the rain has made it leak. Heavily. I put in a request a month ago..."

"We're getting right on it," was the absurdly terse response. She seemed to be cringing back from Ceilí. "Now, please, I've got to get back to work," the woman muttered under her breath as she seemed to shrink into the wall in order to pass Ceilí.

"Is there a time I can expect it handled by?"

Maybe the Sun will come out tomorrow?

Ceilí came outside, walked a short distance, and came to a halt with a jolt. The world was startlingly silent. Dangerously silent. Ceilí scanned the street warily until the cause came to her: snow. The unexpected, fluffy white joy of the season had snuck up on her yet again.

Shoot, I need my boots. Well, if I’m late, the school can just cope. It’s not as if the students will even be paying attention with those workers repairing everything after the flooding. Always with the banging and buzzing and grinding.

12/12/2010- 8:04:12- 2.5 inches of snow on the ground. Still falling.

Ceilí trudged back up the four flights of stairs and down the hall to her door, then kneeled down to fix the disturbed doormat. “Please don’t step on me, I never did anything to hurt you” looked back up at her. A small part of Ceilí’s soul grinned, though her face never moved.

The galoshes on a minute later, Ceilí began the foot-dragging trudge back down the stairs, through the rusty, screaming metal door, and out to the street once more.

Out of the corner of her eye, a glitter fell from her hand and splattered as it disappeared into a pile of icy slush on the curb. Freezing water jumped up and hit her where her sock and pants failed to meet. The ring normally stayed on her finger out of habit, despite its size. She considered leaving it, but habit pulled her back, and her hand went numb as she felt around in the freezing water for the cheap ring. Something bumped her thumb- or was it her middle finger? Couldn’t tell- and she clamped down and pulled her hand back out. A rock. The second try succeeded and she wiped her hand and the ring off on the bottom of her rough wool coat. The scratchy surface didn’t bother her hand as it did normally simply because her hand was a nice shade of lilac.

Ceilí kept trudging.

Home again

I am very sure working on Saturdays is unnecessary, but if they'll pay me for sitting around and taking notes, I could sure use the money. Don't even have to teach those languid teenagers. I must log at least 6 notebooks every Saturday at work.

Ceilí hopped from the bus to the curb, a little extra pep in her step. Conveniently, that hop carried her over the grimy puddle of murk in the street. The hop had become a part of her daily routine, and it got a smile out of the bus driver every time.

8/28/2010- 2:49:47- Bus 52 arrives at stop. 6 including me exit. None enter. No one on the playground.

Not surprising; this endless rain has left everything soggy, and it feels as if nothing has dried out. I guess the kid who normally plays here is someplace dry.

Nope! There he is, over by Watershed Heights. Ahh, that's why, that woman with the big brass horn is playing outside. That reminds me...

8/28/2010- 2:51:15- XX18 is outside Watershed playing for crowd of 2 kids, 1 teen girl, 2 men, 4 women.

Walking around the roundabout the long way for a better view while pulling the notebook out of her sleeve again, Ceilí was struck in the side of the head by a small, dense, fast-moving idea- though she liked the prospect of being able to look over the notebooks and compare the data, the process of cross referencing each note was easily the most time consuming activity she committed to, and painfully boring despite the potential of all the notes in those notebooks. The rare gap of sun through the clouds eked a glint out of the sousaphone, and the unexpected glare gave Ceilí's mind a whir, and once the spinning had stopped, the kernel of thought remaining was brilliant.

A computer. The cross referencing takes so long because the notes have nothing to do with each other. I can't carry around all of my notebooks, one about the lightbulb, one about the rats by the Heights door, one about the rats by the fountain, etc. Impossible. But a computer.. All of the notes right there, I just have to go to the right area.

Naturally, this was not the first time such the computer had made itself evident as an alternative. The arguments for computers were well planned in Ceilí's head. There had simply not been enough money before to go through with the idea.

Ceilí was forced to send the idea to the back of her head when she realized she'd passed the opening to Watershed Heights and was now circling the building. Ahead of her, a woman scurried clumsily from the street, arms full of long pieces of wood and a large bag, and headed straight into an old metal door at the base of the building. In her haste, one of the pieces of timber fell from her load, landing on a beer can with a crunch, alerting the woman to its new position. The woman turned back, scurried over to the wood, and began to lean over to pick it up before realizing the futility of her situation. If she picked up the board, the rest would tumble from her arms. She looked around, mumbling and scowling, until her eyes caught on Ceilí.

Ceilí jogged several steps towards the woman, who seemed to shrink back from the approaching stranger, and picked up the board with both hands. She stretched our her arms and set the wood down on top of the stack still in the woman's hand, noticing that the woman had more wrinkles on her face than she'd a right to when carrying so much stuff.

"My name is Ceilí Thompson, I live upstairs. I don't recognize you, did you just move in?" she asked as she turned the knob to the basement door. It opened with a high pitched squeaking-grinding noise.

I guess I found XX49.