By the time I picked up my daughter, I was ready to ditch the $100 I had paid for my spouse and I to attend the class dinner. I just wanted to go home, get in bed, and pull the covers over my head. I consoled myself with a large snack and a nap.
Feeling much revived, I headed off with my husband to the class dinner. It was a good move. Held in the lovely new performing arts center, the ambience was low key; I saw people I knew (more or less-as introverted as I was in college, I didn't know very many people well); and the food was outstanding. Also plentiful. This went quite far in resolving my earlier crabbiness.
I saw very, very few people who resembled Dick Cheney. Also, given that Swarthmore was once known as "the little red schoolhouse," I found not one single person who admired, or could even abide, Mr. Cheney and his 'posse.' So in that regard it was a homecoming of sorts, certainly a case of "all's well that ends well."
With that, I must return to my 'day job,' which I cannot afford to forget even though I might like to at this particular moment.
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