scattered

I came into the house last night and, as is my wont, threw down all the stuff I was carrying and turned on the computer. I walked back and forth a few times, getting a snack and some cds I wanted to import, and noticed that I kept stepping in some slippery clear substance that was lying in the seams of the tile floor. I didn't really pay much attention, though, until my mom came home and said, "What's this?" After some investigation, it turned out to be motor oil whose container was with the recycling in the closet. It's clear, I guess, before it runs through your car picking up all the dirt of a combustion engine. It's been cleaned up a bit, but I still feel it on my feet and keep saying, "I have motor oil on my feet!"

...

Last night in our Sunday night Scrabble game, I picked up a Q, a Z, and a J on the first turn. With no vowels. And no vowels were forthcoming, on my tray or on the board. What on earth am I supposed to do with letters like that?

...

I feel like I've been holding my breath for the last two - three - ten months. I'm still holding my breath, but now it's only for the date of departure for East Africa. The others have eased. If I were sensible, I would perhaps be holding my breath about whether I'll like this new place I'm going, but I'm calm about that part. What's not to like? It's a new place in Africa.

Ask me again in a few months - then I might have a real answer. But I expect to like it.