Dead Lines

An end to April.

April is a blur. April is - what did I do? There were many meetings. These were meetings outside of work. Meetings with the groups I volunteer with. My kayaking club, my church. There have been challenges, in person, in email, in meetings.

People. Managing people seems to be the common thread, at work and outside of work.

Money. I've been fantasizing about spending money. Buying a proper bed, and perhaps a desk. A digital camera, an iPod, or perhaps waiting to get an iPhone later in the year, or a Kindle, or even an Asus EEE PC. Vacation. Saving money.

Applications. I haven't looked at Stern in weeks; I've kinda given up on that, since I didn't get into NYU's SCPS, and I consider that to be the lesser program. I did finally get in my CUNY app and have high hopes. I still kinda wish that I'd just stayed in Tulsa and blindly applied to mediocre law schools to become a mediocre lawyer.

No, not really.

I've met someone new, and that is going well.

I do a lot. I don't know why it never feels like enough, even though sometimes it feels like too much.

The Commute

It's chilly out. I'm glad I wore my vest underneath my coat.

You know, these shoes are actually very comfortable, despite the heel.

Oh look, here comes the train!

Man it's early.

Hey, there's an email from our consultant. Good news!

Awesome, a seat. I live in an awesome city with awesome public transportation.

More emails, but they're all just automated alerts. Delete, Delete Delete.

Maybe I'll read my book.

I'm glad I'm wearing these shoes. These shoes are awesome.

I like my bag. It has all these compartments. Like the one with my book.

This story is so sad. I relate to all the characters.

Man, how long is this? Two, four, six . . .wow, a dozen more pages.

Well I won't finish it this morning. I'll read till I get to another stopping place.

Is this Times Square already? No, just Seventy-second.

I'll put away the book. I want to think about work, get my head in the game.

My shoes are so awesome.

Oh yeah, I've got to email that guy.

Wouldn't it suck to work in Times Square? I hated it.

I hate it when creepy people stand in front of me.

That was Times Square.

Will I get out at this door or the one on the other side?

Excuse me.

I hope my shoes don't get scuffed on the stairs.

I wish they would just decide which door to block off. Sometimes right, sometimes left.

I hate the lobby monitor, he's a jerk to everyone he works with.

The nearest elevator is the open one. Awesome.