Yesterday was physically exhausting. A major part of this job entails being on my feet going to the copy room or the file room or (yes) the break room. The culture is such that if you want to talk to someone you walk down the hall to their office. The phone is there but not that important. Even my boss, the guy who contracted with me, says that this is the strangest place he has ever worked at.
It is that.
It is like a time machine that has taken me back to 1977. If it weren't for the computers I would swear that when I stepped out of the elevator at work I am in 1977.
I could adjust and that is what scares me.
A 1977 me probably would not have blinked at this position but the 2008 me blinks very hard. I am in Ancient Rome but wearing modern clothes and unable to much more than a few words of Latin. I have to go back to my own time. Things are done way too hard here. Unnecessarily hard. We go from one crisis to another even though no real crisis exists.
They are created to keep us all on our toes and running around with our heads cut off.
It is quiet now but if I stay around too long the next man made event will come looking for me. I would rather not be there.
I did not run today. I walked Amber. The good news is that the results of the MRI came back (finally). No tear. Just looks like I strained my calf. Now at least I know what I am dealing with.
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