When I woke up this morning I felt like I was going to conquer the world. In fact, I’d been dreaming all night long about training underground mafia agents in Tae Kwon-Do, and that I was eating all this pasta… Don’t ask.
So, besides the fact that I’ve been and am pretty goddamn pissed off at the moment, I thought I would give it a shot. Make this day better. Make it worthwhile. Make things better. And I unconsciously put on Roger Whittaker’s New world in the morning while getting dressed. And I didn’t mind the fact that I have a list of things that not only needs to be done today but must be done today. Here it is:
– buy cod-liver oil capsules (to reduce my everyday heartattacks)
– buy food (that’s kind of important)
– buy tobacco (first priority)
– buy student travel card
– print out notes for Philosophy of Language
– FINISH Philosophy of Language paper re: Frege and Russel
– start freaggin’ reading on the exam!!!
I carry it on a post-it in my pocket. That means that it has to be done. It’s like the ten commandments.. Or seven.
So, having put my anger in a locket and my things to do on a list, I merrily walked to work. Only to see that the new furniture for the library, where I sit among the other assistants, had arrived. Three fully loaded trucks of furniture. I have no idea when they’re finished putting it up.
But we’ve wireless connection points all around the building. Heck, you can probably lock on to our signals from Sweden, and since yesterday it’s a 4MBps line. So here I am, confined to the cafeteria like the other internally displaced, reading slashdot, dooce and hackaday with an inconceivable amount of free coffee and fruit just thirty feet behind my back. Am I happy? No.
Slacking takes practice, worn-out furniture and year-old coffee stains. The new furniture has this efficiency-atmosphere similar to the warm and friendly habitats of the Japanese corporation slaves. It’s very grey and very slick. My former boss was a minimalist, you see, and he ordered the furniture for my office. Great. How can I relax? How can one peer lazily into the air, caressing one’s belly, when you feel that you’re sitting in a museum? Is this Feng-shui of sorts?
I remember a study that showed that depressed workers worked harder. It was Japanese, of course.
And I’m not working hard. But I’m representin’. Chillin’. Gettin’ it down. I’m like a sysadmin who never has to take the blame for anything. I’m simply an angel. And an angel should definetely be sitting in a comfy chair, and not some carved-out block that could easily be mistaken for… uhm.. a carved out block. Yeah!
On a side note, dooce dot com has changed the design.
She’s been getting alot of frustrated mails. Chill, people. Do you really go to dooce to look at the design, as if it was some kind of artwork, or to enbalm yourself in the karma of the css, like a munk in the monastery? Neither do I. I go there to read her excellent stories. Download Lynx and suit yourself, if you’re such a Feng-shui minimalist monster.