Of dead cultures and missing links

It is so cold in my building that I'm wearing my heavy coat inside my office. The temps in the offices are ranging from the 40s to the mid-60s. Although it was around 30 degrees outside when I got in this morning, and it is technically warmer in here than out there, there is still a pervasive chill that I haven't been able to shake, even with coffee fresh out of the pot. Don't even get me started on the meat locker ambiance of the restrooms. And I wish the HR receptionist would stop acting like the world stops because she's chilly. We're all cold. The facilities people are doing what they can to make it warmer. Convincing the manager to call the maintenance department head isn't going to make the boiler work faster. It's not like no one realized it was freaking freezing in here up until you mentioned it.

We got really cold rain over the weekend, but the possibility of snow never quite materialized. I got one little icile on my roofline on Saturday night, and there was a brief period earlier in the day where we could see a flake or two in the drizzle, but that was about it. Other areas of the state did see the white stuff, though, and the proof will be in the spike in price for strawberries and oranges. It's supposed to warm up laster this week, in time for M and I to see Jonathan Coulton with Paul and Storm at this gorgeous little place downtown called NOVA535. I'm thinking Hook's for some edamame, miso soup and maki rolls beforehand?

I am all set for my Cultural Anthropology class. I'm actually looking forward to it. One of my coworkers* has decided to make fun of the fact that I have the syllabus, the lecture outlines, the supplemental reading and the class calendar (that the professor made available as part of the course outline - I want to hug her!) all together in a binder. I'm a little fanatical about being organized. Sometimes.

My Literature class is the the exact opposite situation, though, and far from ideal - no syllabus posted, seven assigned books (one of which isn't even available to purchase because it's - get this - out of print), and according to the college staff, they haven't seen hide nor hair of the (adjunct) professor since the holiday break. Of course, the staff promised to find out what was going on and get back with me. Which they did not do. Big. Surprise. The class is tomorrow. If it turns out that this is a potential disaster, I'll drop it and find another literature or writing class that will suit me for this semester. No use in making myself crazy for something that I'm just doing for fun for the time being.

Just because:

*The one who may not have a job after this week. So...yeah. Hahaha. Make fun if you want, lady. At least I know I have a job (whether I like it or not...). She's hinting around that all of her projects will be reassigned to me. Which makes me...not laugh.