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She likes my journal !!

They have better beds on the A ward.

Oakland City Center

October 18th, 2000

The Opinions of Others
Tuesday. I composed an interesting, at least to me, journal entry in my head as I was walking into work this morning and then I hit my desk and the day and it all dissolved somewhere between eight and ten. Now I sit here thinking, well, maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow. Maybe it's because I've just gotten home, the television playing in the background, broadcasting the soft and soothing voices of the presidential candidates as they discuss the fate of nations. Which nations? What fate? Who are these people and what are they doing in my living room?

Wednesday. Tomorrow I'll call the AAA 800 number early and arrange to have my car towed to a Toyota repair shop in Berkeley (who's owner rides a bicycle and doesn't believe in owning automobiles) and then take the bus into the office. A break in the routine, something a little different. Friday I'll drive to work in celebration, buy some very necessary, should have bought it a week ago, kitty litter, as Wuss's box is showing patches of bare plastic and he's furtively pawing at the newspapers stacked on the kitchen counter. Maybe have a couple of beers at PCB. Whoop! You can see my attitude has changed since yesterday, a day of presidential debating. Where I got a further introduction to those who would own the office.

This is wandering, isn't it? Who cares about presidential debates, at least in public? Somewhere between The Sole Prop's mom the presidential debates and my dwindling supply of kitty litter lies a more reasonable, perhaps I mean a more saleable, reality, one that makes others believe I'm on top of it even if I don't quite believe it myself, at least that's my assumption, somewhere between the narrow focus of this computer screen and the wider context of actual human (inside the office doesn't count) contact. Still, not a bad day. This is not a rant. Many things happening, an interesting meeting with a smart group of youngsters who have won a contract with our company for many millions of dollars, one of those very cheap going in, even at the cost of millions, but very expensive going out propositions, proving that you get what you pay for. Money spent like water, new technology introductions in what may or may not be haphazard manners. What do I know about haphazards? Or manners? Or multi-million dollar contracts? Except to repeat the opinions of others? What do I need to know? This is, after all, my journal.

The banner photograph was taken at the Oakland City Center last week during the lunch hour and, the second, of my mom (awwww!), was taken in Seattle. The quotation is by Groucho Marx.