Posting for the Sake of it
Chis Fred demands that I post, so post I shall.
My wrists are tired from typing all day. We're backlogged from my week long absence, and Paul is gone the next two days, then all next week. So don't expect much posting, since I don't want to type more. I did, however, bust out a solid 70 emails today, which is up from my daily average of 50-something. When Paul is gone, I'll be "working smart," only answering the easy ones and delegating the emails that take more thought to people helping me. So I'm expecting to be in the 80-100 range every day. As much as I'd like to stay with the company, my metacarpals are glad I'm leaving soon.
27 days. I have 27 days left until I leave. Today is over, and I leave early-ass on the 31st, so really I have 25 full days left. Holy shit.
THAT was a fast 5 months.
I'm applying to a bunch of SM jobs online, and we'll see if anything comes of them. Some don't start until August, so I'll have at least a little time to kill. We'll see what happens.
My friend Katie Coon is getting married on the 6th November, and I'm going to try and go down with Austin from Seattle. It's in Southern Idaho somewhere. Again, we'll see what happens.
I'm planning a visit tour of the Northwest, from Seattle to Moscow to Spokane to Bonners, something like that. We'll see. (notice a pattern here?)
Right. A Tube anecdote to leave you with.
One day I was waiting in a station for the next train, and out of the corner of my eye I could see an older man approaching. Under his breath, yet still very loudly, he was swearing a blue streak. Sailors could take classes from this guy. Cursing with true malice and anger in his voice. I didn't look up, thinking/hoping/praying he would just pass me by on the narrow platform.
The man walks directly up me, excuses himself, and very politely asks if I know if this train is going to Euston. Not politely as in, "Pardon me, good chap, have you got a moment," still crude and slightly crazy, but very polite nonetheless. I told him I didn't know, he thanked me, turned and resumed a string of commentary that would make roses wilt.
The train arrived, I got on, and he followed. I sat in the only empty seat, and assumed the vacant "staring at nothing" look everyone uses to maintain some sense of personal space in those cattle cars. The man, standing, continues his profane soliloquy. People start to look at each other, as if to say "Can you believe this?" and "What the hell?"
The man comes back to me, and my immediate fear is that he wants to make conversation. He asks me another very polite question (I don't remember what), and the scene repeats itself. I don't know, he thanks me, and returns once again to making our ears sweat.
He gets off at the next stop, and an instant and animated conversation breaks out among the six or so of us sitting nearby. It's always interesting to find kinship and contact with strangers through some from of extremely minor hardship. I had a nice discussion with a Korean family, and then my stop came and I got off.
There are many things about which I think "If I can handle London's version, I can take it anywhere." Public transport is one of them. You've never seen a Tube car empty so fast as when the crazy homeless guy gets on who must have shit his pants two minutes before. What really amazes me is the people who not only don't leave, but aren't obviously affected. Are they really that desensitized?
Well my dear and wicked children, it's that magical time again where I crawl into the arms of Morpheus and give my subconscious the keys to my reality. I'll tell them both you said hi.
My wrists are tired from typing all day. We're backlogged from my week long absence, and Paul is gone the next two days, then all next week. So don't expect much posting, since I don't want to type more. I did, however, bust out a solid 70 emails today, which is up from my daily average of 50-something. When Paul is gone, I'll be "working smart," only answering the easy ones and delegating the emails that take more thought to people helping me. So I'm expecting to be in the 80-100 range every day. As much as I'd like to stay with the company, my metacarpals are glad I'm leaving soon.
27 days. I have 27 days left until I leave. Today is over, and I leave early-ass on the 31st, so really I have 25 full days left. Holy shit.
THAT was a fast 5 months.
I'm applying to a bunch of SM jobs online, and we'll see if anything comes of them. Some don't start until August, so I'll have at least a little time to kill. We'll see what happens.
My friend Katie Coon is getting married on the 6th November, and I'm going to try and go down with Austin from Seattle. It's in Southern Idaho somewhere. Again, we'll see what happens.
I'm planning a visit tour of the Northwest, from Seattle to Moscow to Spokane to Bonners, something like that. We'll see. (notice a pattern here?)
Right. A Tube anecdote to leave you with.
One day I was waiting in a station for the next train, and out of the corner of my eye I could see an older man approaching. Under his breath, yet still very loudly, he was swearing a blue streak. Sailors could take classes from this guy. Cursing with true malice and anger in his voice. I didn't look up, thinking/hoping/praying he would just pass me by on the narrow platform.
The man walks directly up me, excuses himself, and very politely asks if I know if this train is going to Euston. Not politely as in, "Pardon me, good chap, have you got a moment," still crude and slightly crazy, but very polite nonetheless. I told him I didn't know, he thanked me, turned and resumed a string of commentary that would make roses wilt.
The train arrived, I got on, and he followed. I sat in the only empty seat, and assumed the vacant "staring at nothing" look everyone uses to maintain some sense of personal space in those cattle cars. The man, standing, continues his profane soliloquy. People start to look at each other, as if to say "Can you believe this?" and "What the hell?"
The man comes back to me, and my immediate fear is that he wants to make conversation. He asks me another very polite question (I don't remember what), and the scene repeats itself. I don't know, he thanks me, and returns once again to making our ears sweat.
He gets off at the next stop, and an instant and animated conversation breaks out among the six or so of us sitting nearby. It's always interesting to find kinship and contact with strangers through some from of extremely minor hardship. I had a nice discussion with a Korean family, and then my stop came and I got off.
There are many things about which I think "If I can handle London's version, I can take it anywhere." Public transport is one of them. You've never seen a Tube car empty so fast as when the crazy homeless guy gets on who must have shit his pants two minutes before. What really amazes me is the people who not only don't leave, but aren't obviously affected. Are they really that desensitized?
Well my dear and wicked children, it's that magical time again where I crawl into the arms of Morpheus and give my subconscious the keys to my reality. I'll tell them both you said hi.
posted by BAA at 12:11 PM
3 Comments:
HEY! where's the props for your care package?! and katie's wedding is in idaho falls on a saturday. talk to you soon.
Good morning.........so how about some wrist supports for your "carple tunnels" so that you DON'T damage them???
Love ya!
Or maybe you should just stop wanking so much. Tis a thought.....
Cannot wait to see you upon your return! We shall kick back a fine grog!
Miss Amy
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