But this month I've been doing something to fix that. Maybe I'll never be a mathematician. Maybe I will never be able to help my kids with their algebra or even program my own cell phone. But the one thing that I can do is look things up. I spent a good part of March in bed and on the couch trying not to think of the fetus growing inside me as an alien monster who has injected poison into my body with the intent of killing me slowly and enlarging my rear end. It helped to watch movies and read books, so I did a lot of both of those things. And I learned that when you don't have many other demands competing for your attention it's easy to spend inordinate amounts of time thinking about random subjects you have come across during your reading and movie watching marathons. For example:
Jane Austen makes Victorian England look like such a charming era. So full of clever conversationalists and extravagant balls. But where on earth did they go to the bathroom?
I kept imagining Elizabeth Bennet wandering through Netherfield Hall in search of a chamber pot and so finally, I just had to google it. The Victorian Web is amazing. I skimmed several articles detailing squatter potties, out houses, rudimentary flush toilets and of course, chamber pots, until I was firm in my decision that I do not want to be reincarnated to Victorian England. But you can imagine that once started on this google obsession, it's hard to cease and desist. I started keeping a list of things to look up on my nightstand. And that's how I came to know about how Four o'clock flowers only open their buds in the late afternoon:
I think it's important to remain curious. And so I entreat you to take similar measures to keep the encroaching ignorance of modern generations at bay. If you aren't sure, look it up!