The day starts out with a good motorcycle ride to work. There is a short stretch of open road, so I wind the R1 up to about 115 mph before I encounter traffic and have to slow down. I feel sorry for the new motorcycle because I haven't had the chance to stretch it's legs yet.
I have a productive day at work. The work today is not innovative, geeky, hackerish, or technical, but I make progress at working down the list of things that I need to get done. But, because the work is not creative or innovative, my mind starts wandering and now I get into a bit of trouble.
While taking a break and searching through the Internet for cool macros and scripts, I make a huge mistake. All's I can ask myself is, "Why did you do that?" In fact, I'm walking out to the bathroom asking myself aloud, "Why did you do that?", when a co-worker asks me if I am okay or not. He can see that I am troubled and that I realize that I made a huge mistake. The huge mistake that I made was searching the Internet for the ex referred to as Person A in the March 11, 2002 diary entry. I have done this before, but today I actually find something about Person A. And actually am able to piece together a history for Person A over the last 15 years. I do not like what I see and I become upset. And emotional. And distraught. The remaining hour at work is not productive.
On the motorcycle ride home from work there is a winding freeway transition road that I like to take at speed. Today it is a bit clear of traffic, so I do my best Valentino Rossi or Dajiro Kato imitation - leaning off the side of the bike, knee extended towards the pavement, and throttle wide open. The bike feels very stable and I am surprised when I take a quick peek at the speedometer in the middle of the corner and see 101 mph. It doesn't feel like 101 mph in a corner.
I get home and I want to be alone. The telephones start ringing but I ignore all of them. Instead I start work on prepping and painting the indoor trim around the new windows. I have the big mountain stage in the Giro on the television in the background and whenever I hear the announcer's voice rise to a scream I come out and check out the action. They are headed up the Pordoi into the snow-covered mountains. I am jealous.
I've been prepping and painting for about an hour when the doorbell rings. I consider whether to answer or not. And I do. It is Person Roy and his roommate Ralph. They have come over to lift weights. After I complete the window that I have started I help them lift weights in the garage and we have long discussions about various topics - relationships, parties, clubs, dogs, family, and neighborhoods. Before long we are in the living room making conversation when Frank, whos kids I used to babysit, comes by. Roy and Ralph leave because it is getting late, but Frank wants towork on my home surveillance cameras and to get them hooked up to the camcorder and/or VCR. Before long we have it working in a test mode and now I just have to decide where I want all of the motion sensors and cameras mounted.
I eventually get to bed at 11:30 pm - about three hours after I wanted to be in bed.