On A Friday
The weather was pretty nice today, the forecast says something about rain, but not until later in the afternoon on Sunday. The office has been filled with, um, consultants. Who knows what they're up to? Who cares? My own thoughts have been running to the near future. I have a project I'm going to have to become buried in to bring it off properly and keep my position (as a not overly gung-ho, but nevertheless competent techie).
Part of me likes the idea of another “immersion” in a project (a vacation from reality), part of me doesn't (what with the heart warming excitement of staying in touch with reality) and another part of me I've been trying to keep in check so I don't go out and do something foolish like cut (and run smack into reality). Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Not because this entire journal is riddled with this mindless subject, which of course it is, but because, I suspect, you and I and everyone else around us are having similar thoughts.
You're projecting. It's only old fogies who walk this mind numbing line.
True, but better walking than hurling. Or contracting Dengue Fever (which looks pretty evil just seeing it spelled out). Or rickets, although I'm only familiar with hurling from a life of wine.
Be embarrassed for that line. Whine, wine; I me mine.
I am. On a Friday. In Oakland.
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