Chrisonomicon

Monday, September 30, 2002

I can't get over the fact that it's absolutely beautiful outside and I'm stuck behind beige walls, under flourescant lighting, and exposing myself to the radiation from my computer monitor rather than the tan-inducing radiation of the sun. I mean, if you're gonna get cancer, you might as well look good doing it.

Driving along the interstate over my lunch break to grab the next two discs in my latest addiction — QAF, Season 1 — I lowered the driver-side window to soak up the intoxicating fall air, Rauhofer's Live at Roxy pushing bass into the rushing landscape. Good weather, like good health, is always bittersweet, the knowledge that it will end ever at the forefront of thought, but the almost-circadian pattern of moods, weather, and health reassure me that this enjoyment is as perennial as the grass.

M came over last night after some deliberation. Our relationship has been rocky, to say the least, but seems to have made a full circle as well. Dinner, some playful banter, a silent ride home, and we smoothed things over by quietly discussing everything that had happened over the past two weeks. There's not much to say about it, other than I feel great that things have been patched up, that we've somehow conquered this together.

And then that bittersweet feeling resurfaces, but it's easier to bat it down, knowing that it's simply part of a larger picture with in's and out's, up's and down's.

I relinquished the opportunity to travel south in December for a business trip, knowing that I'll want to be here for my birthday and that the fam is planning a trip for Christmas anyway, and it all seems to be part of a larger trend at work lately where I've started pitching into the department PowerBall pool, getting approval to telecommute, and generally looking for ways out of and away from work.

The weather certainly isn't helping any.