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A rare moment of idle time.

Life seems to have settled in to a routine. Not overly busy, but constant and with little flex time.

A great deal of my time is taken up with commuting now. I wake up at 0615 to be at the bus stop by 0630 to arrive at work around 0730. I leave work at 1600 and usually arrive home between 1745 and 1800. Yes, my commute on the way home is nearly two hours, owing to the vagaries of bus schedules. A good 45 minutes is usually spent waiting at a stop.

I've tried three different routes with two or three transfers and have not gotten home before 1740 except on the exceedingly rare occasion one bus is early by the same amount another is late and I can eliminate a 30 minute wait entirely.

There are two consolations: I'm not spending money for gas for the commute (work gave me a transit pass) and I have three hours a day I can dedicate to reading. I finally read The Graveyard Book (two days) and Tales of the Red Panda: The Crime Cabal (one day) as well as some others from my To-Be-Read stack.

Work is going well. Last week I was chosen to check other peoples' work in the training database to make sure they were ready to work on the live database. This week I was among the first pulled off of other projects to focus on a new, high-priority area with ambitious goals and aggressive deadlines.

And it rained today!

It's been hot and sunny most of the time recently. I do not sleep well when the weather is too warm, so I've been spending the majority of my break time napping at my desk. Quick 10 minute cat naps which are almost, but not quite, entirely unlike actually sleeping. Mostly I've been relying on my new 1 liter Thermos. I throw some tea and hot water in there in the mornings and by the time I get to work I have tea (generally over-steeped, not always terribly) and it stays hot until the last cup.

But today it rained. I was unprepared for the rain, so spent my bus stop waits standing in a light mist (it wasn't raining hard by the time I left work) in shorts and a t-shirt. If not for the wind it would have been almost pleasant. Tonight I should sleep well.

I keep hearing snippets of fiction in my head on the bus; they're scenes or feelings related to stories I've written, how to improve them, the next scene in a sequence, etc. but I am no longer in the habit of carrying my journal with me everywhere, so I haven't written them down.

"Do you think we're alcoholics?" my roommate, duaiwe, asks one afternoon, handing me a bottle of beer and opening another for himself.
"What makes you say that?"
"Well ... we have, at last count, seven bottle openers and two cork screws."
"And the mini-fridge in the computer room dedicated to beer."
"I fail to see a problem with that."
"The problem is, the beer fridge is nearly empty. Again."
"I begin to see your point ..."

Truthfully, we usually only have one beer each a night, with dinner. Most of the drinking gets done on a weekend when people come over to play board games. The fridge was well stocked before the last board game night, and turnout was lower than expected, so we've been chipping away at the remainder for the better part of 9 or 10 days now.


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May 2011


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