The Indian food here in Chapel Hill leaves our Indian food back home in the dust. I ordered something called “potatoes with fenugreek leaves,” and now I want to marry it and have its babies. Please don’t tell my husband.
I’m staying true to my plan to hang out at the hotel all day. I’ve already been to the swimming pool. A little later, I’ll head to the gym. This will be the first time I go to the gym since the war started. The reason isn’t that I didn’t want to go but that my blood pressure was too high for me to go safely. I finally managed to get it down enough to be able to go to the gym today.
The gas prices (which I know about because I can see a gas station out of the window) are as high as back home and look like area codes more than gas prices.
In other news, our union got salary raises for some people but none for others. The raises are large and attractive, not to mention retroactive. But the logic behind some people getting them and others receiving nothing is not explained. The only explanation we get is “equity.” But I have access to all faculty salaries at my department, and the logic behind the raises is neither sex- nor race-based. Maybe it’s some other, new form of equity. You can imagine what the result is. People are suspicious of each other and nervous.
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