The scariest thing I got in the mail today was not my PG&E bill, although that was the first thing I opened. It turns out I'm using the same amount of electricity as last year, even with TiVo searching full time for programs I might like (and doing a dismal job lately, but maybe it's just me).
The good news is that I'm using less gas, by about 15%. Overall, my utilities for February cost me about $75, compared to about $110 in January. It wasn't that much warmer, and the rates didn't come down, so I must have adapted. Either that, or they made a mistake reading my meter. It wouldn't be the first time.
If that wasn't the scariest thing in today's mail, then what was? I got a notice from my high school graduating class. They found me, so I guess I can expect them to start tripping me in the cafeteria and telling lies about me on the bathroom walls again. If they think I'm going to pay $45 to go to the thirty-five year reunion, they must think I'm still the servile lackey, begging for a crumb of approval, that I was 35 years ago. Nice of them to invite me, though.
The flyer from my high school also included a list of names. These are members of my class that they've lost track of (lucky people) . The names brought back a flood of memories, plus a few flashes of puzzled recognition. There were one or two people I actually hung out with (at times, as much as I ever hung out with anyone). I can see them — the way they were at eighteen — as if they were here in the room with me.
But the names that caught my attention were people I have patchy impressions of, more than actual memories. Like, wasn't that the big goofy guy who haunted the upstairs bathroom? And, she had the biggest braces I ever saw. One kid (kid! He's 52 just like I am!) was in my third grade class at Lincoln School, but I can't remember him from high school at all.
I don't think I'd turn any of these people in if I did know where they were.