Charles Jensen | Writer

The weather here is sickly: the air is chillish most of the time, but the sunlight is warm again. This makes you feel fluish as you walk around outside. The heat in my house doesn’t know if it should blow or just sit still, so its does both: first it huffs hot dry air through the hallways and rooms, and then it feels bad and shuts up, letting the natural chill in the spring air settle back down to the first floor.

It’s a time of year I enjoy. The orange buds are just about to spring open and vomit their acidic scent across the campus (a few weeks away—but I see it coming). Small animals have refound their frolic. It’s a relief really, although for us in Arizona it’s really the end of relief. Sun’s coming. Summer’s coming too close like my drunken Uncle Shane at a recent wedding or funeral. It makes us all a little uncomfortable.

The young men and women of Ken and Barbie University have lost clothing in inverse proportion to the rise of temperatures.

Mail service seems more direct and efficient.

The plant in my office, inexplicably, is dying.