Les Bonnes Choses

And in the last few hours of my thirty-mumble-mumble year, I'm going to talk about the economy -- namely, how I stimulated it today. It may have been chance, or it may have been the combination of black tea and Sudafed for my allergies, but I felt quite energized today. Good thing too, as I was working in the basement of a hospital for an 8-hour day that finished with an experimental participant with ADHD. An aside: I used to be an ADHD skeptic. I still think it's overdiagnosed. But by-golly I tell you, the kids that do have it: they're a lot of work.

So my day ended and, finding myself downtown Chicago, I decided to go to the Lego Store in the Watertower Mall. I had never been, though I had often seen tourists and shoppers carrying the tell-tale shopping bags that hinted at its existence, like so many maps to ancient Inca gold.

(I now think perhaps I'm hopped up on Sudafed).

Jude's birthday is coming up, and after sharing with him the disappointment of not having enough red lego bricks to make a Cars 2 Mac truck, I wanted to remedy that. One of the joys, for me, of having boys is that I can look forward to years of fanciful Lego creations. It's likely that, with their pedigree, my boys are going to take it that extra step and motorize their creations in future science fairs or first year engineering, but for now it's all about artistic expression. The thrill of walking into a room of pure creative potential was indescribable. I can say that with confidence because this is the fifth time I've edited this paragraph, and just gave up. Even though Lego products have shifted towards almost exclusively themed boxed sets, with specialized pieces for making specific projects, I still think they foster creativity and imagination. Especially when the project instructions get lost. Then there's one project you can always fall back on: build a fleet of spaceships.

Having spent money on Jude (Don't worry. He doesn't read my blog), I decided to treat myself to a new pair of Club Shoes. Club Shoes? Back in 2004, I was in Chicago for a conference with Pat, Ray and Coco -- my lab mates at the time. I did not have anything that resembled a business-casual appropriate shoe. I felt very self-conscious about this because my departmental position as area fashionista was in jeopardy. So the second day of the conference, the group of us did some recon for a store near our hotel that might sell shoes. One blustery walk later, I was the proud owner of a new pair of black shoes -- shoes that looked rather like those worn by the rest of my party. Hence: club shoes. I am happy to say those shoes served me well these last 7 years, but it is time to move on.

Farewell, old club shoes! May my feet be so well shod 7 years hence!

That last bit I should have done in pentambic iambeter.

I am SO taking Sudafed again tomorrow.