Tuesday, January 29, 2002

caught on pixels during Sunday's urban adventures

"In the future everyone will be world famous for fifteen minutes.."

Andy Warhol, Catalogue of his photo exhibtition in Stockholm

Tomorrow I'll give a dry run of a presentation that I'll actually present on May 14. So, if I don't finish today to a certain point, I'll embarrass myself in front of my most esteemed colleagues. Plus, after I submit it on Friday, the powers-that-be at the conference will be less inclined to let me change it. So...must be persistent. Must figure out what research to let go and leave out. It's the deadline.

However, meetings keep popping up on my calendar. (With Outlook other people can pepper your calendar with things directly, send you messages that, when you accept, block out some time. If someone just sends me a message that says there will be a meeting and I don't manually put it on my calendar then sometimes I forget to go. Which is not always a bad thing.)

I attend two more meetings on organization or earnings. I'm afraid not to attend these. Although one is by phone and fairly painless. At one the word holistic pops up. What's up with that?

At the live organization meeting, I see the slides and realize that if I weren't me and I weren't there I would think 'what happened to LB?' When the slide in question popped up, a guy in front turned around inquiringly. Another guy when a part of the organization was discussed, turned around and looked at me. He was trying to start a rumor. Ha. Ha.

One other meeting has customers and our company employees phoning in from all over. We are disclosing a plan to customers for some technology. It causes us to think about some fairly interesting things for about ten minutes.

I meant to be at work a lot earlier than usual. Instead I'm a little earlier than usual. I stay in the office through lunch, munchin Laughing Cow cheese and then some nachos. I stay late, trying to finish. I eat one of the free apples and more Laughing Cow. It gets later and later. I don't panic. I try to get the copier to make my hard copies. It gets an error but then it does its thing. I need more practice and polish and I should have edited the thing again. But I calmly close up shop and go home.

I go home. It's late. Around 11. I need to go to bed and get up early and get ready for the dry run. Instead, I read papers, work some crosswords, get hooked into some crime and law shows where you have to stay around and see if someone is caught or convicted.

So I'm up too late. But what does it matter anyway?

JUST TYPING
I'm finding fun.
Fiddling with the futile.