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| Beverly Center Parking Garage |
I started reading
The Difference Maker by Megan Daum in The New Yorker. She's talking about why a woman might not want to have kids. I'm reading along and I come across this line:
But I had also come to believe that whatever satisfactions were to be gleaned from youth outreach did not offset the soul-numbing torpor of the Beverly Center parking garage on a Saturday afternoon.
Torpor is one of those words that I wouldn't know what it means except
Elliot has a web site with that name. I'm still not sure, but I think it means inert or lying there like a log. Soul-numbing though, that speaks to me. The contrast between the Center and garage is, what's the word? Killer?
A little farther along I come across this line.
It had been a long time between accomplishments. At least, it had become hard to identify them, as most of my goals for any given day or week took the form of tasks, mundane and otherwise, to be dreaded and then either crossed off a list or postponed indefinitely (meet article deadline, get shirts from dry cleaner, start writing new book).
I always have a list of
Things To Do. Some of them have been on there for years, so this woman is talking to me.
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