January 10, 1995
It’s about two o’clock. I have the day off. It’s been raining and raining, and the schools and banks are closed because of a State of Emergency, which I love. Minor natural disasters are terrific. You go for walks to survey the damage, read, have good things to eat, and occasionally listen to Storm Watch ’95 as they’re calling it on the radio. All extremely cozy and satisfying.
Last night Teresa went to bed early and I pounced on her. “Tell me how you felt when I first asked you out.”
“Haven’t we been over this?”
“We’ve been over this backwards and forwards and sideways and from your point of view and from my point of view, and what did I think and how did you feel.”
“Because it’s so interesting.”
But she was asleep.