It was four degrees outside this morning, colder than the walk-in freezer I remember from working at Main Street Ice Cream in Annapolis in 2002. Nevertheless, there was no moisture on the streets to freeze, despite a reported possibility of snow overnight. I think I'm going to start praying to Bob Dylan to give me snow days. He failed to give me one today, although it was less important than it might be because the office is even more quiet than normal today.

Last night they hosted a Legislative Reception, which they do every year during the single, puny New Mexico legislative session. The length of the legislative session rotates every year between thirty and sixty days. The rest of the year, the legislature meets only if called to a special session by the Governor. I can't imagine how the state government hopes to keep up with changes or impact New Mexico with sessions the length of an aphid's lifespan, but anyway, that's how they do it here.

Everybody in the office was shouting about how much stress they were under organizing everything, reserving hotel rooms, ordering food, training members in lobbying, and coordinating meetings of various organization committees, since all the board members would be in town. We invite all the members of the legislature, as well as the governor and his cabinet, the lieutenant governor, all the public education commissioners, and New Mexico's congressional representatives. I think only legislators and commissioners showed up. Everybody stood chatting in what we call the training room, eating finger food and watching the all-female mariachi band who I first saw in Tomasita's. It was about the same as a St. John's party, except without the altered states, hook-ups, aggressive dance music, indoor smoking, shouting, decorations, and senior residents watching over everything. Oh, also, the lights were brighter.

People kept telling me that I was welcome to come to the reception, as all the staff was invited as well; "You should come tonight, and bring you wife!" No one took the further step of telling me why I should go, but after I picked up Anne from school (where she was working), we stopped in and ate some barbecue sandwiches, chicken kabobs, and cookies. Everybody stood in a semicircle and slowly stopped chatting for first song by the mariachi band, who were all dressed in the same blue dress, with little guitars or violins and shifting singing duties. Then Anne and I left, without even seeing Bill Richardson, as I'd been half hoping.

We went home, and were soon joined by Adam Wilson, who I guess decided to drop by to visit Steven. Scott made pancakes, and then Adam and Steven bought a case of Tecate and made cheese hot dogs covered in bacon. I've quit smoking again, so I didn't join Adam on the porch in the solidifying cold. Adam's been coming over often since Steven moved in, and staying long after Anne and I go to bed. Having Steven live with us is, in general, like living in a part-time college dorm. We never know when we're going to be woken in the early morning by what could be either fearful shrieking or an Allanis Morrissette video on youtube, and sometimes the table is covered with empty beer cans in the morning. I hope that when Steven starts his job at Whole Foods next week, we move back to a quieter existence.

I still feel like a hostage to the seeming necessity of holding a full-time job. Maybe if Bob Dylan proves capable of providing me with snow days every so often, I can set up a sort of religious calendar around him so that I feel less monotony. May 24 would become the new Christmas, but beyond that I don't know what else to put on the calendar.

Today in the office, at least, the monotony is tempered by the feeling of relief from last night. In fact, only five people are here today, and if I were more rigorous about keeping up with my work, I'd legitimately have nothing to do. As it is, there are a few phone calls to make, and a few databases to update. I should also probably clean my desk. I'd just rather be home.