Friday, October 31, 2003



Funny how going to work in an office on beautiful days didn't used to bother me so much when I was younger and differently vigorous, working full time (for the few years I worked full time), but now that I've redirected and go to the office only three days a week, the continual series of four-day weekends I've at last lived up to has made me much more aware than month-long vacations ever did of how much I am giving up by closing myself in behind these well-constructed office doors. There's no "sense-of-growing-old" component to this feeling that I can discern, nor any "shortening future" overtones that are rumored to come with seniority (I don't feel that in any aspect of my life); rather, it's as though I've suddenly been granted heightened awareness of the true value of days like the one outside the tinted window, I'm being shown something that it's time for me to see...

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