Is there life after 30?
Is there life before it?
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The baboon upstairs is moving around much earlier than his typical appointment with consciousness. I can tell, of course, because I’m hearing the very muted depth-charge impressions of his stamping meat-pads from the ceiling. It’s as if he’s acting out his typical incontinent hysterics but just can’t put his heart into it.
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Give me anything - but time. Who can give that? Its chosen.
Mr. Pellet tried to teach us. I really respected him. We had some really good teachers at San Jose High.
I’m now 36 years old. Sorry, I should say, thirty-six.
I’ve got strands of grey in my hair & that disquiets me in a way that my thinning hairline never has.
26 March 2004 Friday
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Stepping back a bit, the situation is not good. I quit the “telefundraising” company yesterday because I could not stomach the extra margin of extortive bullshit that an adequate performance there would demand. But this also means my cash flow is nil at a time when my savings are also zilch.
Tonight I’m feeling good though, despite the sub-epsilon antics of the motherless crack-head polluting the room upstairs.
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I really didn’t want to go out and deal with the rent $$ dilemma. Dilemma: I could very well expect my severance check tomorrow, but I wasn't sure if I should wait, having grounds to doubt if I could get a payday advance on the weekend. [Urban myth, as I found out, lotsa people are more than happy to charge me %15 over two weeks, come on down any time...]
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It would have been too bad had I not followed through. What’s that truism of Dr. Pournelle’s, “...he found throughout his life that the wrong action taken decisively and in time was much better than the right choice too late.” Or something like that. In this case... I would have missed some charming banter with a wonderful Bank of America teller named Vangie - and $70 to my emergency rental fund for this week. I no longer need be concerned about making it now.
It was nice out today. Warm with a redeeming ocean breeze, air clear. Coming back from the loan quest down Mid-Wilshire, I went bombing down the steep grade into MacArthur Park and the narrow asphalt which divides the lack from Wilshire. Whee! I did that yesterday and was rewarded by the sight of a halo of seagulls around the pine-tall column of sky-thrown water that is MacArthur lake’s center and attraction.
Checked email at library tonight - grump, no replies. Pisser. .... Last night though I picked up a monstrously interesting book about web services titled “Loosely Coupled,” all about how to connected sovereign computer systems in different vintages & companies so as to make truly coupled IT systems. Cool! Can’t wait to dig in tonight.
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[I’d sum up today’s reaffirmation this way: “Knowledge, like emotion, exists also just to be found.”
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