It's Still Dark Out!

So the corporate powers that be have decided that it is in their best interest, and apparently mandated by the king (or at least the next level of management) that there be this thing called "coverage". This concept can only be described as additional insurance to deal with any computer, network, act of god contingency, when all recorded history shows that no need for the additional insurance is required. It is not important whether this is a good idea or a bad one, what the king commands must be done. At least while I still willingly take the king's shilling.

What this means on a more personal, and therefore, more important note is that I have to get up at 5:30 AM drag my weary body over to the train station at 06:22 AM to arrive at work at 07:30 AM for a coverage period that does not start until 08:00 AM. Sure it's thirty or so minutes of free time that I can use to my advantage by writing, meditating, or just simply reflecting on the fact that it's still dark when I have to leave the warmth of my home. Soon it will be dark when I leave the office as well and then my only source of daily light will be the flickering glare of the fluorescent tube.

Oh Joy.

A Deal with the Devil

So there I was thinking about life, the universe, and everything and contemplating what it is that I actually want to do with my life. Every one tells me that I should write. Fortune cookies tell me I should write. You'd think I'd listen, but no.

I posted a resume online thinking that "hey, maybe I'll start looking for a new job" and it hasn't been up for more than twenty-four hours and already I'm getting calls and email from head hunters looking to offer me their services to place me in a dream job. I suppose I should be flattered. I suppose I should feel good that I am desirable in my field. The problem is that I don't feel those things. You see, if truth be told, after seventeen years at it, I really hate what I do.

While the resume says I've done servers this, computers that, and network such and such, I'm really just a greed enabler. I don't do anything noble, I don't prevent anything horrid. I shepherd electrons across vast intercontinental ranges of copper and fiber allowing traders to purchase mutual funds in a timely and profit fulfilling way. Every day is the same and every day is devoid of satisfaction or reward.

This is my deal with the devil. Perhaps I should look not to making similar deals with similar devils, perhaps I should think about a new deal.

The Fabric Covered Box

I returned to work this morning and slid comfortably into my chair and the conformity of the fabric covered box which is my cubicle. It's my little 64 square feet of corporate real estate. I like to keep it as Spartan as possible for a couple of reasons. First, I don't like to give the impression that I'll be here for long. The less stuff I have in my corporate cell, the less stuff I have to box up at the inevitable end. Second, an empty cube is an ignored cube. Co-workers not familiar with the unadorned cubicle concept, routinely bypass it as unoccupied. This is a good thing, because they are often the ones with extra work to pile on my desk. Cleanliness may be next to godliness, but in this case it assists in additional leisure time during my voluntary incarceration in exchange for meager lucre.

Comfort Food

Hi my name is Ric and I'm a "Beans, Weiners & Toastoholic". [This is where you say "Hi Ric"] Tonight I fell off the wagon.

Don't ask me why. It's a thing I can't understand, nor do I try to. It's a compulsion, an urge, and obsession, not a thing to be proud of, but a part of me that is kept in the deep dark secret place.

If you must know, I blame Matt and Ian. Sure it was over 2 decades ago, we were young and experimental, but thanks to them I am hooked. All I have to do visualize those tasty legumes smothered in maple syrup sauce, a couple of hot dogs (the particle board of meat) all heaped together on freshly buttered toast, and I am under the spell of such a craving that I immediately have to rush to the nearest supermarket to acquire the fix for my addiction

Beans, wieners, & toast. It's not gourmet, but it's the only comfort food that gives me comfort.

Looking for the "Drink Me" Bottle

It's a terrible time of the year. It is the end of vacation. The summer was particularly cool, and things being what they are, I didn't really get to do the things I wanted to do. It seems that no matter what you plan for, the universe delivers something else.

It has been a week of mostly rain, and Little League baseball games. Those two factors alone limit the scope of any other outside activity. It has also been a week of feeling on the wrong side of ill. Perhaps the illness is psychological. Maybe the thought of returning to the fabric covered box, which is my cubicle at the office, is weighing heavy on my thoughts. Thoughts of being somewhere else, thoughts of doing something else.

So marry the feeling ill, weather, and baseball schedules together and you get a vacation of spending most of the time indoors, reading a lot of books, playing games with the kids, and all too soon the time is over. I have to return to the real world and all I want to do is find the bottle labeled "Drink Me" and have some more time in wonderland. Oh Well.

A Beginning

Well this is a new start for me. I am not new to blogging, as I have several blogs on the go for various purposes; I have a blog for things I write (which I need to do more of), a blog for things I read, a blog for things Celtic and finally this blog for things I'm thinking about. Let's hope that I might have something interesting to say, or this is surely a waste of your time, but more importantly it would be a waste of mine.