Monday

February 19, 2001

It is spring, by the way....the red bud at my parents blooms.

In my dreams this morning, there is an abusive person. Everyone, including me, is throwing food at him as a preemptive strike from him doing it. There is also a bulletin board that changes contents and frame style. But it isn't digital, it's mechanical and it flips around in this weird, complicated way. Then we are looking for old pictures of me with people to prove that they knew me at a certain time. It won't be enough if they just say they knew me.

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The great thing about writing about dreams is that it's so free. Everything is acceptable, you just pour out the nonsense stream. It's a dream. No sense is expected. Then there is life.

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I try to make sense out of what I need to do, what others are doing. It would seem to be an easy progression from customer need to product and back again. But it is not so. The road is littered with turns to cul-de-sacs and dead ends, with potholes that can stop large vehicles, with drivers filled with road rage. Customer needs change in the blink of an eye and a QA cycle takes weeks.

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Home after a day like this. Home late, too. Because I had a talk with a boss. A good talk.

FFP and the bookkeeper are cooking dinner. A lamb stew things and spinach salad. A bit of wine.

I sit through the Monday night fare, which FFP likes. I watch part of Good Will Hunting. I don't know why. Perhaps I instinctively hate anyone who does mathematics with such ease. I abandoned math long ago and I have a little regret about it, I guess. Mathematics is a tough game. The movie shows that part.

I was extremely lazy. I should have packed for the trip, worked on my WEB page, etc. But I didn't. I sat in my chair and worked crosswords and read newspapers.

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It's spring. Never mind that the last threat of freeze in Central Texas is supposed to be March 8. There are fruit trees blooming and things budding out.

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