After Work

Last night after work we went to the not-too-far-away not-too-crappy little ski mountain, which offers $12 night skiing on Mondays.  It was cold and while I was jamming my feet into those big rigid boots and my fingers were beginning to freeze as I fought with buckles and clips I wished I was at home with my book.  But there was a full moon and plenty of stars, and the snow was soft, and the lights were sort of sulfury yellow, which made me feel like I was skiing in some old-time sepia movie.  There were lots and lots of teenage snowboarders around, and I like watching them.  They're always performing for someone -- their friends, an unknown audience.  They're always aware of the eyes of the world on them, even standing in line they're making sure to stand in line as cool as they can, so they remind me of how much adulthood has lowered my guard.  We skiied for a couple of hours, then ate bad fast food that had been sitting under a heat lamp for a couple of hours.  We drove home and slept like rocks.