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miscellaneous Monday musings
Jan. 19th, 2009 10:34 amThere wasn't a lot of traffic on the streets this morning. Work is a somber place today -- not because we have to go to work on MLK Day, but because the Ravens won't be playing in the Super Bowl. Conversations are hushed, disappointed. It was actually quite a contrast to go from the car to the cubicle, from nonstop inauguration talk on NPR to mumbled morning-after-the-game regrets.
There's a guy over in the next cube wearing a suit, which is pretty formal for around here. (Most of the engineers tend to wear a buttoned shirt with either jeans or khakis.) People keep coming by and saying, "so hey, you got an interview, or a court date?" He smiles gently and says, "Funeral," and the visitor invariably says, "Oh god, I'm sorry." It's happened at least four times this hour.
Last week I clicked on a link to this beautiful, poignant poem. I'd forgotten about it, but Firefox loaded up the tab for me this morning, to break my heart again. The "remember my tabs" option on Firefox is like traveling back in time.
We spent a couple of hours in the climbing gym yesterday. I followed a twisting 5.7 with a long 5.9 and had some difficulty; my brain knew what I wanted, but everything felt harder than it should have been, as if I was dragging weights up the wall. After that, I hedged my bets every time I tied in: if I can't do the 10a, I'll retreat to the 8. If I can't do the 10b/c, I'll retreat to the 9. Turned out I could manage them after all; almost would have cleaned the 10b/c if I hadn't gambled on having a decent ledge on one of the handholds. Instead, I lunged, my fingers hit the hold and found nothing, and I slid cleanly off the wall. Can't rush those 10's. Felt good when I finished, though.
Climbing is frustrating now, because I'm coming back from a break; the calluses are gone from my hands, my muscles are weak, my endurance is nonexistent. But it feels better every time. Back when I was at my best, climbing didn't feel like work; it felt like dancing. I'm starting to remember that now.
There's a guy over in the next cube wearing a suit, which is pretty formal for around here. (Most of the engineers tend to wear a buttoned shirt with either jeans or khakis.) People keep coming by and saying, "so hey, you got an interview, or a court date?" He smiles gently and says, "Funeral," and the visitor invariably says, "Oh god, I'm sorry." It's happened at least four times this hour.
Last week I clicked on a link to this beautiful, poignant poem. I'd forgotten about it, but Firefox loaded up the tab for me this morning, to break my heart again. The "remember my tabs" option on Firefox is like traveling back in time.
We spent a couple of hours in the climbing gym yesterday. I followed a twisting 5.7 with a long 5.9 and had some difficulty; my brain knew what I wanted, but everything felt harder than it should have been, as if I was dragging weights up the wall. After that, I hedged my bets every time I tied in: if I can't do the 10a, I'll retreat to the 8. If I can't do the 10b/c, I'll retreat to the 9. Turned out I could manage them after all; almost would have cleaned the 10b/c if I hadn't gambled on having a decent ledge on one of the handholds. Instead, I lunged, my fingers hit the hold and found nothing, and I slid cleanly off the wall. Can't rush those 10's. Felt good when I finished, though.
Climbing is frustrating now, because I'm coming back from a break; the calluses are gone from my hands, my muscles are weak, my endurance is nonexistent. But it feels better every time. Back when I was at my best, climbing didn't feel like work; it felt like dancing. I'm starting to remember that now.
