I Must Be Addicted
2004-04-07,

It has become increasingly the case that I do not possess the will to communicate, the capacity for joy or the ability to see colors until I have my first sip of tea in the morning. This must be a sign of thorough addiction. Which puts me at a disadvantage when compared to my workmates, for instance, who have the immediate access to the dreaded coffee-mud-juice. Really, I should demand a separate device in the break room for making tea exclusively. There are certainly enough tea drinkers in the hizzouse (judging by the oft dwindling tea supply) to merit one. Bring me my instant gratification! Give me orange pekoe or give me death!

Speaking of the capacity for joy, the environment �round the office has reduced mine slightly. My cube neighbor Kelli has officially moved. Beside the reduction in eye candy, I now have no one on this floor with which I can vent any Geek. And just when I was getting used to being able to do so, too. With whom will I talk about actual things? Who at work gets to hear about the article in SciAm I just read? So far, the range of conversation topics around the department has varied from baby stories to reality shows. That�s like, .001% of the conversational spectrum. It�s like having everything in the office painted the same color-- baby puke green. Something must be done about this.

I have a feeling that this might end up being a long and rambling entry today, as our supervisor is not in the office. This means that I need to spend less time on my toes, ready to look very busy. I think that as long as I keep a policy file on my desk and fiddle with it now and then, I should be fine. At least to fill the time when I don�t actually have something specific to do. I do get busy sometimes, you know. It�s just that with this points system we have, with the crazy amount of work I did on Monday, I could do nothing for the rest of the week and still stay above target. Personally, I think that once you hit a certain point range, you should just be able to take the rest of the week off. Which would be nice for this week, since the kids are on spring break this week.

Today will also be an excellent opportunity to get some more Home Study Questions done. I�ve gotten through questions 1-3 already, so with today I should be in good shape.

... then again ...

Maybe I�ll get suddenly quite busy. Which happens to be the case. I guess I�ll have to ramble instead of working on my questions, because working and rambling are much easier to do concurrently than working and deep thinking. I have a hard time multi-tasking deep thoughts, unless I�m doing something mindless, like mowing the lawn or vacuuming or folding laundry: three things to which my wife can attest that I do often and regularly. Scoff.

Meanwhile, the search for a sink is a little more hopeful than I thought. I was nosing �round the �net for some examples of what we�re looking for, and sakes alive, I managed to find some. One in particular looks a lot like the one we�re replacing. Hopefully we can find something that fits without having to get it shipped in from Timbuktu. Western Timbuktu, even.

I�m hoping H will have some time to heal over the next few days. She�s off with the kids right now, and will be again on Friday. Then she and I get the day off next Tuesday to do battle with the Federal building and whatever branch that broke off of the INS that lies within in order to get ourselves �identified�. You know, in case we�re slave traders. I�m a little uncomfortable with this, even though I have nothing to hide and no criminal record to stifle. Just to know that my information will be registered in �the system� gets my anti-administration paranoia hackles all up. After all, if I�ve done nothing wrong, why do they need to keep track of me? Am I already on file somewhere for having been at the peace march in October of �02? [Author�s Note: I have a picture of an �officer� at that particular march openly taking pictures of people in the crowd. It was a little Big Brothery for my taste. Especially since I was near vocal Socialists at the time.] Sure, you can say that if I have nothing to hide than there�s nothing to fear from being an entry in some federal database that will probably never get looked at again once the adoption process is over and done. But still... I guess it just prods my anti-authoritative disposition.

Sheila, my new cubicle neighbor, is small, nice, and not as fun. I could do worse, though.

Ah well, time to save this thing and post. I have things to finish up around here afore I leave.

-- End Transmission --

p.s. It�s Pudding.

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