Your cocktail sir,





2002-01-21 - 5:31 p.m.

Since my life has suddenly merged from fast track to success to that one guy in Office Space who's going to set the building on fire, I suddenly find myself with time to think at work. I've run all these incredible reports and gone through and color coded things, and written notes and such. My cube gleams like a brochure. It's kind of nice. And creepy. I find myself being some sort of corporate character actor with his business attire. I'm like the plants and the art on the walls, a prop to ease the minds of customers. People are productive here. Look at this area, with it's enigmatic charts and color coded filing. Yep, your order is in great hands. Then the quarter runs out and I go limp. This organization has spilled over to other areas of my life. My car also benefits from the relaxed pace I find myself in. It's clean and shiny. Inside and out. Including the back passenger section, long a favored dumping ground for anything I didn't want in the front seat. Which would be hastily thrown into the trunk through the access port whenever sudden company arrises. I cleaned that out this afternoon. Scary. Maybe the boxes in my closet will be next.

previous - next

Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

- - 2007-07-11

Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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