Wednesday,
February 20, 2002
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.. what's real, what's a shadow?
celebrating Valentine's Day
"You are eternity's hostage
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I'm no good today and I don't want to be here But, other than that. I had to get to work at a reasonable time to participate some more in the customer visit. There was corporate stuff going around that makes me tired. The phrase "OK, already, let's just get to work," comes to mind. I got an e-mail from FFP indicating that, well, he was having trouble concentrating. He's never like that. Go figure. Made me want to rush out into the beautiful spring-like weather and walk the dog and take shop window or neighborhood pictures.
I didn't get the things accomplished that I should have. I couldn't care too much. So, I went home on time. Tomorrow I will have a list and I'll be under the gun.
Forrest got 'take out' at Cooper's. It was chicken again. Piccata, he said. It was breaded and had mushrooms and a lemony sauce and also some squash. It was tasty. Seeing the squash reminded me of the green bean affair. "You really don't like green beans?" I say. I'm still marveling that I never realized this and yet, of course, he always cooked squash or something else. "It's my least favorite vegetable," says he. "Really. Hmm...mine are green peas and brussel sprouts." "I like green peas OK," says he. (I knew this.) "But I made those great green beans for Thanksgiving," I say, "and I didn't know." "I ate them. I knew you made them and I better eat them." "You could have lied." "I didn't lie." "I know but you could have just said you ate them." You can be married to someone and never know stuff. Of course, both of us eat things we don't like the best if someone puts them in front of us. His mom serves green beans all the time and I always eat a bunch of them. As a kid I was the pickiest eater alive. Now there aren't many things I won't try. I like some variety. I still adore cheese but I eat all kinds of things. Not enough fruits and vegies, alas.
It's hard to write when you are so boring that vegetable dislikes are occupying your mind. It's better than thinking about more scary stuff, though. I know things FFP really likes, of course. Organ meats...sweetbreads, liver, foie gras. A beautiful piece of rare steak or tuna. Wonderful sauces. A good plate of molé enchiladas. (Actually, I think molé just means 'mixture.' The particular mixture I have in mind is one of many spices and chiles and chocolate.) Rotisserie chicken and tender vegies. Yeah, I know a lot of stuff he likes. Good for him not complaining about green beans all these years. Especially at his mom's special meals when she made the ones with almonds for me.
I am enjoying the writing here. Silly as it is. Snippets of dreams and vegetables. Forrest has asked, "So you don't have your journal linked up at all anymore?" and "So you aren't going to put that up where people can see it." Well, I don't. And I would. But while I'm still working, it makes me nervous. Not that there was any harm or threat that was ever realized from people I knew at work or who worked for customers or competitors reading it. But, it made me nervous. I try to keep my work comments personal and somewhere at a higher level than Dilbert cartoons, but still. Supposedly, I'm on the technical ladder at the level of VP. Yeah, I know. But I probably have privacy and fiscal responsibilities I don't even know about. Or not. I don't know much I could tell, really. My product line is large to me but it only involves about eight percent of the workforce if you count all the marketing and sales and everything. Oops, I probably shouldn't have even said that. Of course, I don't really know that figure. And I don't know the percentage of revenue although I probably could find that figure. But then I might tell someone. That's stuff you aren't obliged to tell everyone in your public information. I don't think. And that's the closest I've come here to saying anything I shouldn't, I hope. Although maybe I should have said it in invisible ink.
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178
JUST
TYPING