Last night I dreamed that I cried and cried because it was my anniversary. In reality I did not cry but I did recognize that it was my anniversary and my ex-husband is soon getting married. This doesn't bother me emotionally but it's one of those societal things: one member of the couple is moving on relationship-wise and the other is not. Do I think he's doing better than I am? No, in fact I think the opposite. Do I really care if people think he is? No, I don't, but there's still part of me that is Barbie-and-Ken influenced from the outside of my psyche. The pressure of our couple-defined culture. And so, based on my dream I would say this is more powerful in me than I realized. But today I could give a shit and I have moved on.

I couldn't get to sleep until 1:00 but I had a really good time watching Michael Keaton on David Letterman last night. He had been banned from the show, I'd heard because he booked Leno and Letterman for the same week and Letterman was really pissed about it. It's been years since he was on the show and I love to watch him interact with Letterman. He was at his best and I was entertained. Not sleepy, but entertained. This was after watching Michael Sidaris read a really good excerpt from his fable on Jon Stewart's show. But then all of a sudden it was 1 and I was not sleepy. That might have worked for me but the dogs, notable Tess woke at 4:30 and would not settle down. I glanced at the clock and thought it was 5:30 so decided it would be ok to get up, close enough to 6, thus nearly time to arise for work. When I took a good look at the clock, however, I squawked. Too late, both dogs were by now stirring. I got up at 5 and took all three for a walk to camp. The sun was up over the mountain but the lake was not calm. Tess had the best ever walk, running around like crazy. We woke up a deer at the top of the camp hill, in the woods. It took off like a shot into the woods, making a huge racket. I found myself almost wishing we'd run into either the Viscontis, my neighbors across the hardtop, or one of "the boys" who are in camp at the foot of my hill. This amused me, who loves to have the world to myself.

The boys are former campers who are here to open their camp but mostly to have a good time together. They gather each spring and fall to open and close their camp. They remind me of Henry and his friends when they all got along. These guys are in their 50's but act like 11 year olds when they're together. They are so cute I love to be around them. One is a judge, one runs his own business administering nursing homes, one is a wealthy retiree, one is a children's author from Marin County and I don't know what the other does but he's very cute. All but one are married to their original wives. They don't include me in their activities very often because it's basically a boys' club down there, but I run into them at Ken's or on the road sometimes. I didn't really expect to see anyone this morning, but I was sort of hoping to see Duncan, who jogs and is really the cutest, most lovable and universally adored of the bunch.

So this morning I was very groggy on the way to work and instead of listening to my book I cranked Pink up loudly and sang along to her songs (Let's get this party started!). When I got to work I could barely keep my eyes open, what a struggle it was! Now I've had at least 3 cups of coffee and am listening to Internet radio, the 80's--a switch from my usual music, which is keeping me pretty perky. I'm cataloging some very old and depressing children's books for Lake Placid. No library should have children's books published in the '20s or a set published in 1902, least of all a library here in the North Country.

Last night we had a negotiating session. The board has really been pushing their package deal, which includes an offer of a 2% raise and a contribution to our health insurance costs. The husband of one of our team members put together a huge spreadsheet which illustrates how much money we would lose if we accepted their package. The cost of living index is now at 2.91%. His figures were great, and I handed them out at the end of the session to give the board something to chew on. They met after we adjourned. The difference between their offer and our counter-offer is $40,000 over 3 years, so we're hoping they'll at least consider it. But I'm a foolish optimist. I'd just really like to settle this contract.

And now back to 1902.