heavy lifting

my god, what am i doing up this early? i guess the sun rose before it could be expected to; now it's thrown everything off. at 8 a.m. i am unaccountably hungry and even my cherished 19s cannot help me. it must be a hunger composed of displaced sleep.

and my body is sore. saturday i went around filming with a handheld camera. i hadn't realized quite how heavy a handheld camera is -- dogme may be for dorks, but those dorks must have tremendous upper-body strength -- and i had to stop eventually because my arms had turned to jello.

then, speaking of sugary food, yesterday evening co|motion steeled itself to sell 600 donuts. addie and i launched through parrish, dana, and hallowell, all the dorms i've lived in, and managed to sell 14 dozen. not unimpressive and not unexhausting either, frankly. when we finally disposed of our LAST ONE, we whooped like sports fans and considered tracing our footsteps door to door with a revised pitch, "hi! would you like to donate alcohol for a worthy cause?"

we got some great responses. one guy was half-naked when we knocked on his door. he pleaded for a couple minutes to get dressed. another girl walked up next to us and said "come see me once you're dressed too!" joking, i turned to her and said, "maybe you could just see him now." "oh no," she said. "he's my ex. he'd better be clothed."

a few doors down we ran into the same girl again in a different guy's room (another ex? a current?) would she like a donut? "no thanks," she said. "but the guy who lives her might. hang on." and while we stood there, she rifled through his clothes and the room looking for a dollar. finally she shrugged at us: "sorry, i can't find his money. would you like some of his gum?"

another girl told us she was sorry but she'd given up sweets, cheese and peanut butter for lent. "you must be a saint," said addie politely. "if i were a saint," replied she, "i wouldn't need to give up everything i love to feel god in my heart."

anyway, if you bought a krispy kreme, thank you for lightening our load.