in a day.

...and i feel guilt for not periodically typing away my frustrations, dreams, updates and sending them out on a virtual plain of sociability... but there have been things building up within, so here, again, are some samples from my own pensieve.

i open my eyes and rouse my consciousness, stretching my legs in the morningtimes, careful not to move the oh-so-lightly-sleeper and complainer of All Things Awakening i have the blessing of sharing a bed with. i awaken every morning in phases, brought on in all cases by liquids: one, cool shower water jolts my body to aliveness, and two, the last gulp of coffee fully vitalizes my mind.

and by this time, i am crossing the san mateo bridge, a nine-mile stretch of six-lane highway across the churning water of the bay. it is seven o'clock. amy goodman, of democracy now, is just parting my presence. and i am adequately debriefed for the day.

i elevate to the fourth floor, sit within the pod to which i am assigned, and begin work. i check asset acceptability for transferring funds from one institution to another-- a "source" firm and a "new custodian." when clients enlist my company, we bring them over to a new broker house, one that has a team to work with us. i set up accounts there. i read trust documents. i research mergers and acquisitions as they relate to stock splits and takeovers. i receive and send legal documents. i verify account details and addresses.

i take all of my 50-minute lunch period, every day, and flee to a nearby park on the marina where i slowly eat a turkey sandwich (hold the mayo and cheese, please), and fruit. some days a busload of adult disabled accompany me. they play soccer, talk to me, and argue between themselves. i enjoy them.

the afternoon goes quickly, and i again transverse the bridge at exactly 5.24 pm. i enjoy the ride home, except for the traffic, because viewing the east bay is much more appeasing. there is no deepened development at the foot of the san mateo, and the hills are so lush and green right now due to the god-induced 90-day straight rain we've received. my father, by the way, points to our record-breaking rain (not so much since 1904) as indication of an imminent record-breaking earthquake-- following the same pattern of the 1906 earthquake. my physics and engineering-major roommate says there is no such correlation. rather, that correlation does not equivocate with causation.

i breathe at various moments in no particular pattern throughout the day. i am oftentimes amazed at the large blocks of time in which i do not actively think. in college, i often felt i had ADHD, compelled to bring a book and a notebook wherever i went, and frequently doing several different classes' worth of work while sitting in yet another different class. i was thinking in layers-upon-layers, conscious, subconscious, unconscious working simultaneously teasing out various levels of analysis and theorems. here, i think only of what is in front of me, immersing myself in the immediate. it is refreshing. but my life is being lived with no acknowledgement from my lungs, no realization of my soul.

my parents and friends ask skeptically if i am enjoying what i do. i feel compelled to tell them of course i love it; whose benefit this is for is yet undetermined. there is some part of me, though, that very much enjoys the routine: finally my early-awakening is appreciated and utilized! finally i am asked to develop a specific skill! finally, there is some closure to my tasks-- what i write, what i accomplish has a telos, an end, a crossing-off on a list, never to return. my questions here do not naturally give way to an ever-increasing list of questions, uncertainties, and requirements of further research. i now turn off my computer and leave tasks sitting on the desk.

in short, what i do now is different. and it was really time for something different.