Still, a nice day, a rain squall in the mid to late afternoon (the office paused for a moment to glance up at the rain through the windows, everyone thinking the forecasters were right and the trip home was going to be less than perfect; not true, it turned out, the rain lasting for less than an hour), a chain of tasks that seemed to dovetail one into the next until the day was finished. Finished an hour after I myself was finished, sitting empty headed at my desk, but that's pretty good for an old fart who's hunkered in the corporate web.

Later. Well, yes: later. The next morning, actually, relatively early before the rest of the crew has arrived at the office. A scone and a cup with MRE at the City Center, various tasks that have been running on servers half way around the world. Did this one complete? Did it not? Why not? The usual background of tasks mumbling and muted like automobiles idling in an underground garage, but without carbon monoxide. The computer room likened to a garage without carbon monoxide and grease. What's the difference, otherwise? Men - mostly men, but not all men anymore - standing around a car drinking coffee. Maybe I need another cup.