Basket case
[Yes, I know it’s been 4 months and 3 days since my last post. Such is my relationship with writing and blogging and such.]
[Edit: Hee. It would seem this is not the first time I’ve had a 4 month break. Ha, I kill me.]
[I still can’t stand the word “blog”, by the way.]
One of the many ways in which I am a basket case is the paranoia that comes from having people hang around behind me when I’m sitting at a computer. This happens most often at work. I tend not to listen to music at work because it’s hard to hear people coming up behind me. “Get one of those cubical mirrors,” you’re probably saying, if you’re the type to speak aloud to blog posts. I probably would have by now, except I never remember to get one until I’m at work and getting that paranoid feeling again. Since there is a distinct lack of mirrors in the vending machines, I’ve yet to purchase one.
The situation is made worse by the fellow who sits across the… gap… from me. What do you call the space between two cubicles through which people walk? It’s not a hall or a corridor. Passageway? Walk-thru? I have no idea. Anyway, the guy who is across the way from me. I sit with my back to him. This in itself doesn’t make it worse. Who he is makes him worse.
Now, before I begin this, I want to point out that I’m not ageist. Not anymore than anyone still in their 20s anyway, I guess. But, he’s old. He’s nearing retirement and so doesn’t really do much all day except talk to people. People who stop by his cube. People who stand outside his cube and, therefore, outside my cube. They stand there and talk. And, like many old people, he can continue a conversation long past when it should have ended. He snorts when he laughs. He kind of stutters and speaks in a way that makes it seem as if the muscles in his jaw don’t work as well as they used to. It’s actually kind of hard to understand him sometimes. It’s annoying.
I guess all that does kind of make me sound like a dick. Whatever.
The most recent visitor had something extra to kick up my social anxiety. She was selling candy bars for her son’s something-or-other. I didn’t hear what. I hate when people do that in an office. Not because I feel that has no place in an office, but because I feel dickish when I turn them down. No, I don’t want to buy a candy bar. Or popcorn. Or a Christmas candle. Or anything else. Yes, I care that you’re raising money for your kid’s school. (Actually, I don’t really, since I don’t have a kid, in that school or any other, but I don’t think I could come out and say that.) I know it’s my right to turn them down and I shouldn’t feel anything for doing it, but it’s just latent “what do people think of me” worry that I’ve not yet managed to let go of.
See, this is why I don’t blog much. I start with a coherent sort of outline and by the time I get a few paragraphs in, I’ve lost it. Fuck it. Here’s a bullet list:
- twtlang is no more. Not that anyone really used it. Twitter moved away from anonymous API usage and I didn’t feel like registering it.
- twtdict, however, is still alive. In fact, twtdict won big in Wordnik’s 2010 Developer Challenge. I scooped up best in productivity and best in show. See, ideas thought up in a bar can turn into good things.
- One of the things I purchased with my prize money is a Nikon D3000. Because of that, I’ve been using my Flickr account more. Go take a look, if you’re of the mind to do so.
- I have no idea why this photo has 111 views. There are no comments. No tags. No description. Not even a particularly interesting title. I am somewhat baffled.
- I recently bought a scooter, too. It is fun. You should get one.
I guess that’s brings us up to date, in a jarring, half-assed sort of way. I cannot say that it won’t be another 4 months and 3 days before I post again. Only time will tell. Only time will tell.