This Day
Tuesday. I must stop: getting up so damned early to catch a bus before eight in the rain with all the other crazies on their way to the office, many of them repeat offenders with even less justification for their madness than my own.
You're too old not to have figured out the relationship between paying the rent and getting out of bed before the sun rises.
True. There's hardly any energy left in the observation anymore except (except), when the door to the building at the end of the line looms and I have this feeling of dread, this feeling the building will now swallow me up and spit me out nine lost hours later. Well, seven lost hours. I do duck out for a short two hour lunch to recharge my batteries.
That's bullshit.
An hour. An hour and a half.
Wednesday. A long day in the lab, long in the sense nothing seems to be working with the project that needs to be finished by Friday. This is both good and bad. Bad in that it's not working (well, yes) and good in the sense solving the problem is not altogether routine and therefor somewhat interesting. I'm tired of this techie stuff, but not altogether tired. You don't become a techie without some fundamental interest down there inside that never quite goes away, you understand. It diminishes with age (I've found), with repetition (I've found), with laziness (I've observed), with the development of other more fascinating interests (I've heard). So, you know: good and bad. This day. Here in Oakland.
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