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SATAN DRIVES TO WORK

 
  And Now You're Older Still

9 July 1999


5:54 PM: Donuts and Skittles and Penguin mints and Starbursts. Yes, I might be stressing just a little. Overslept. Friday. Things that should work simply turn out complicated. Everyone I need to talk to now that it's complicated has gone, because it's late and it's Friday. Machines are borken. A failure to complete my tasks in a timely fashion looms.

Meanwhile, other people, simpler people - oh let's call a spade a farming implement, marketing people - I try to do them a favor. They don't even work here. Sure, I will help you. This is a good instinct, isn't it? Helping people? No, it is a survival flaw.

"Here is that thing that we said that we would give you two days ago and we have to have it go live tonight and we're quite sure it's perfect even though you've never seen it and we really don't do this sort of thing very much and now we're getting on an airplane so you can't even talk to us about this and we really have to have everything done NOW but you weren't doing anything important yourself anyway were you? After all, it's late, and it's Friday."

A nice snarky little Suck piece about the oversupply of single women in Silicon Valley and the Bay Area in general, pointing out that no self-respecting woman would want to go out with these "workaholic, dateless-on-Saturday local dweebs." I wasn't aware that I was still in high school, where not having a date for Saturday night was, like, a total disaster, oh my god. I must send them a thank-you note.

OK, Today is the first birthday of Today, the end of Year Zero, a milestone of no great or lasting value. I look back at the entries from a year ago, and they're much more interesting than anything recent. I don't only mean the ones connected to the whole semi-drama-monologue with Anna, either. I was just paying more attention to the world and its little evil creatures. Now? Eh. Whatever.


Heh. Freudian typo on that link, there. I was pointing back to my work site instead of this one. But it's gone now. Let's hope that doesn't happen in the other direction. "I was reading the latest issue of your magazine online, and I must say that I find the gratuitous descriptions of your digestive processes quite revolting."




Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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