On Houses and Hugo and Time

Finally finished Season 2 of House, M. D. The Husband and I watched the first two episodes of Season 3 tonight. You know, I actually dreamed about Gregory House the other night. I can’t remember it, but I woke up knowing I had. 🙂

House has been a nice distraction from other things lately that I don’t feel are going so well. I’m tired of not being at my normal workplace because my building is being renovated. With just a few more weeks to go, I find myself intuitively understanding precisely why House does what he does. He is in so much perceived pain that the only thing that can make him forget it is working to solve an apparently insoluble medical mystery. I have begun to feel like a fifth wheel on the job. The novelty of being somewhere different has worn off and I feel like I am just running in place, hurrying up and waiting. Watching House has taken my mind off of the waiting game while I’m at home for a welcome hour or two every night, which is more than I can say for some TV shows I have seen in my life.

It almost, but not quite, took my mind off of the fact that 17 years ago, right now, I was sitting in the hallway of my house with my Mom and the dog listening to Michael D on Q107 take calls from around town. In a little over a half an hour, the eye of the storm would pass overhead. I went to my Mom’s house tonight to pick up some apples she brought back for us from the mountains. I sat down in the hallway while she was in the end room looking for something to do with her long term health care insurance. I sat down and inched around until I found what I thought was the precise spot I was sitting during Hugo. I almost felt like I could reach back through time and send something, some knowledge of the future, to my past self sitting in the same spot. What is it, I wonder, that really separated me from the past there? Everything about that spot is still the same, even the carpet and the wall covering. Why couldn’t I go back? Why couldn’t I see forward? I wonder what it is that really makes up time. It ran so slowly today at work while I was waiting for the day to end so I could go home. It went by so fast since 1989. I wonder when we’ll figure out what time really is made of and whether we can travel in it more than one way.

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