We’re spending the night in a sleepy little town just across the Idaho border. I easily could have used many adjectives to describe the small little hamlet in which we’ve chosen to relax, do laundry, and sleep. Although picturesque, cozy, and quaint all certainly apply, it is not without reason that I have selected “sleepy.”
The first reason is undoubtedly Freudian in nature, as the entire family is exhausted from a prior-to-first-light sojourn back into Montana to use the internet.
Now, before anyone either notes the absence of a prior-to-first light post or sends me links to internet addiction facilities, let me assure you that my mission was long-planned, of extreme importance and that I failed miserably at its completion.
Today was my day to register for my fall classes. Back home weeks ago, it seemed a simple matter to both me and my advisor to grab some wi fi, secure my schedule and be on my way.
However, firewalls blocked key pages. Over the phone, staff from the registrar’s office found flags on my account—missing data, questions concerning prerequisites and the like. The staff from the Graduate office was summoned, emails were exchanged, professors were contacted. Despite the best efforts of a vigilant staff, I remain unregistered for class at present.
But projection of my own state is not the sole reason I describe Driggs as sleepy. No, the weary state in which I have discovered Driggs is due to the underuse of no less than 5 cute little coffee houses that were shut down for the evening before dinner. One place--a trendy little shop with leather couches and pumpkin patina walls was actually pouring coffee down the drain as I entered the store.
So I’m blogging on hotel coffee brewed in a little 8 oz pot.
In other news:
The turkey was found in western South Dakota, beneath a pile of rubble. By all accounts it jumped out of the refrigerator of its own volition and burrowed beneath the children’s backseat accouterments.
Which reminds me that our daughter has yet to use the teal ice cube trays. She simply carries them into various hotels and displays them on chairs and tables alongside her knitting.
The Wisconsin cheese survived, although it has taken on a rather free-form appearance.
My son’s future as the mayor of Brandon, SD is in doubt, as he’s renewed a life-long interest in hotel management and ratings. His trip journal reads like a Frommer’s Guide, each page covering the perks and pitfalls of the various establishments at which we’ve lodged. A page fell out of the car in the Badlands and I rescued it from the parking lot. It seemed to be some sort of diagram of the perfect hotel layout, but I’m not sure. He got testy when he found me looking at it. Evidently, it’s not something he’s ready to go to press with yet. He does, however, leave a star rating and personal comments on the nightstand every time we check out. He’s hoping his remarks will come up at “hotel meetings” and his name will be tossed around in upper circles within the industry.
Dr. M’s nurse called to tell me how normal all my lab work is, and to remind me that there’s still a Pending test they want to make sure I schedule. Isn’t that just my luck. I’m getting chased down about tests I don’t want, and despite the combined efforts of an entire University departments, I can’t seem to get registered for classes and exams to which I’d happily consent.
Total miles since last post: 1025
miles to date: 3169
Creatures: mule deer, elk, coyote, eagle, pelican, antelope, swans
where we are