Selling Sno-Cones at the Beach

mug without handle

A mug I've had for lots of years got broken on Sunday at a BBQ. No big deal, but as I tried to fit the handle back on before going to get the superglue, I thought about when I probably got it.

My boss was a huge believer in promotional trinkets - mugs, pens, keyrings, all that stuff - for the city, for his election campaigns, for special city events. Periodically his office staff would make him clean out items from events past to make room for more-current materials. The last cleanout, when he had announced his retirement, was much more poignant - he foisted stuff on us day after day, and his staff packed up all his plaques and awards and other mementos, until the office was bare.

Then, after he had left the building for the last time, the painters came in and painted his office a different color, and the next time I saw it, with the new mayor in office, it looked disturbingly like a different room altogether.

I have dreamed for the last three nights that I am back working there - not in my old job but as an intern or temporary help. This probably represents my uncertainty about our future, and my frustration that I am not in the groove with prelims or dissertation proposal.