The Moments and the Seeking of Them

The clock is ticking away, and this time it's ticking away the weekend. Hell, it wasn't so long ago when it was ticking away the weekdays and the working hours! Where do all our resting minutes go? Those sound, no question about it, like the words of a desperate person who doesn't want to go working anymore. I can't say I'm one of them, after all even though I gara wake up really early to go to the office, and I spend there most of my time, truth is that I like my job. I finally do. :-) Sure, since I was in the University I always said that I was already waiting for my retirement, but now, after some eight years of being in the labor market, for real, I've finally found my place, my perfect boss, a good company, and an excellent area to develop. I still feel sorrow when the weekends tickles away, trickles away, flows away and you've gara set the alarm of the clock again to wake you up at unholy hours to get ready. When you have to start thinking about what to wear the next day. These things make you realize that is not "work" what you dislike so much, but the conditions imposed on you by the company, the management, the annoying organization-department, HHRR or whatever.

I went to make some shopping for some basics I was short of, but now I'll have to do some more shopping for the office "Barn" I keep. For that, though, I'll have to survey the barn drawer, make an inventory and remplish it accordingly. Lately it has been becoming hard to close and it makes a strange sound I do not appreciate, like something plastic is stuck behind it. I guess I'll have to try and fish it out tomorrow or some time soon.

This week I met with one of my best friends and we shared a lot of thoughts and crazy ideas, and I, yes I, worked hard on inffecting her with White Collar. Hopefully my devious scheme worked, specially since this next Saturday we'll have a White Collar "marathon" of sorts on Fox, in the morning. Hey, you gara count your blessings! We shared an almost virgin Long Island and a Zombi that was soooo harmless I was considering rename it "flu". It wasn't a zombie, it wasn't even dead, it wasn't comatose... it was just gently, lightly "affected". What's wrong with that joint? Are they affraid of alcohol? The Masala Chai I had, however, was great. Do we have to start looking for a new alternate place to meet in the downtown? The requirements for a new meeting place - or alternate meeting place - include being close, serve alcohol - real alcohol - not too noisy, so that we can talk, and must be nice.

I've been trying to arrange a meeting with another of my friends to have a crèpe and browse through shelves and shelves of books while commenting on everything from people to the latest theory circulating on the Internet. Hopefully this week we'll be able to meet. Hopefully.

My friend Fabio won't be at the office tomorrow, nor in the next two week since he's honeymooning with his brand new wife, so I guess lunch with him and talking about the important matters of life in the light of modern pseudo-philosophy sprinkled with everyday concerns and some sci-fi molecules shall be left for later. This week there will be a lot of work, a lot of tasks, and I hope also a lot of dates with my dear, dear friends.