"Allow Tao to carve you into a vessel for Tao. Then you can serve the world without mutilating it." Upon reading this, I looked at my hands, so soft and pink. How could they serve anything?
By remaining open.
"Do by not doing. Act with inaction."
It is through silence that we may speak the loudest. By stillness we may find our way.
"What has equilibium is easy to maintain."
Favor neither one extreme nor the other. Strive for Harmony in all things.
"Heaven's secret is motherly love."
It takes effort to hate. Abandon such foolish notions.
"A good employer puts himself below his employees."
It is in humility that we may benefit.
"The sage isn't sick. He is sick of his sickness. Therefore he is not sick."
Releasing all pretenses, expectations, and fears leads to Tao.
"Because she contends with no one, no one can contend with her."
Do not play petty games. They mean nothing.
"When people find one thing beautiful, another consequently becomes ugly."
In acceptance of all things, there is freedom from judgement.
"Allow order to arise of itself."
Everything turns out alright in the end. You must trust.
"Too much talk about it evaporates your understanding, though. You must stay at the center of the circle."
Showing posts with label Work day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work day. Show all posts
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Famous Song Titles Day at work
"Let's get it started" - Black eyed peas
"Confessions" - Usher
"Tubthumping" -Chumbawhumba
"Time is on my side" -Rolling Stones
"I'm on my way" -Cat Stevens
"These boots were made for walking" -Nancy Sinatra
"Thinkin' about you" -Norah Jones
"Blue Collar Hollar" -Stan Rogers
"Ah, Jus' push it" -Salt 'n' Pepa
"On top of Spaghetti" -Boy Scouts
"Winter" - Vivaldi
"Silent Sea"- KT Tunstall
"Sittin' on the dock of the bay"- Otis Redding
"Get out" -Jojo
"King of the Road" -the Proclaimers
"Bed" -J. Holiday
On an unrelated note here is the comic for today:
http://www.vgcats.com/comics/?strip_id=207
"Confessions" - Usher
"Tubthumping" -Chumbawhumba
"Time is on my side" -Rolling Stones
"I'm on my way" -Cat Stevens
"These boots were made for walking" -Nancy Sinatra
"Thinkin' about you" -Norah Jones
"Blue Collar Hollar" -Stan Rogers
"Ah, Jus' push it" -Salt 'n' Pepa
"On top of Spaghetti" -Boy Scouts
"Winter" - Vivaldi
"Silent Sea"- KT Tunstall
"Sittin' on the dock of the bay"- Otis Redding
"Get out" -Jojo
"King of the Road" -the Proclaimers
"Bed" -J. Holiday
On an unrelated note here is the comic for today:
http://www.vgcats.com/comics/?strip_id=207
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
War day at work
*Censor's warning; This post may contain explicit language. Reader discretion is advised*
We addressed the enemy after only an hour of being on the battlefield. They launched a surprise attack that killed several in the platoon. Morale is low. It is uncertain whether the enemy has taken any damage at all, despite heavy offensive.
We lunched the troops on Spaghetti and Star Trek. Morale improves.
Needless to say the situation with the enemy has advanced to a point that my platoon is incapable of dealing with it. I have been required to call in my reserve unit, but I am unsure if we can hold our position until they arrive. We are low on ammunition, low on morale, and do not have the advantage of simply berserking. I am unsure when things reached this critical point, but it must have happened suddenly.
Our diplomats and peacetalks (our main offensive) have all been returned bloodied, tortured, and beheaded. It is apparant that we have no recourse in speech. I, myself, have taken some wounds with my legs and pride severely damaged. They attack out of nowhere, with surprising savagery. Our intellegence is useless, all previous reports have been discarded.
If this continues, we may have to cecede the territory. This is less then optimal, given it involves abandoning the reserve unit, but perhaps drastic action must be taken.
I can feel my will to fight draining, but the time for confrontation is almost over. I should return my forces to rebuild war-torn areas, and help calm civil strife.
We do not have the resources to maintain a long-term siege, but we lack the firepower, due to the geneva convention, to wage an all out attack.
Holding for reinforcements.
We addressed the enemy after only an hour of being on the battlefield. They launched a surprise attack that killed several in the platoon. Morale is low. It is uncertain whether the enemy has taken any damage at all, despite heavy offensive.
We lunched the troops on Spaghetti and Star Trek. Morale improves.
Needless to say the situation with the enemy has advanced to a point that my platoon is incapable of dealing with it. I have been required to call in my reserve unit, but I am unsure if we can hold our position until they arrive. We are low on ammunition, low on morale, and do not have the advantage of simply berserking. I am unsure when things reached this critical point, but it must have happened suddenly.
Our diplomats and peacetalks (our main offensive) have all been returned bloodied, tortured, and beheaded. It is apparant that we have no recourse in speech. I, myself, have taken some wounds with my legs and pride severely damaged. They attack out of nowhere, with surprising savagery. Our intellegence is useless, all previous reports have been discarded.
If this continues, we may have to cecede the territory. This is less then optimal, given it involves abandoning the reserve unit, but perhaps drastic action must be taken.
I can feel my will to fight draining, but the time for confrontation is almost over. I should return my forces to rebuild war-torn areas, and help calm civil strife.
We do not have the resources to maintain a long-term siege, but we lack the firepower, due to the geneva convention, to wage an all out attack.
Holding for reinforcements.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Brevity: comprehension
Anticipation; Arrival
Preperation; Sojourn
Tension; Ceremony
Meditation; Solitude
Exchange; Embarkment
Crisis; Averted
Dusk; Bamboo
Strategizing; Idleness
Frustration; Inadequacy
Reflection; Tao
Citrus; Silt
Haste; Completion
Filing; Snack
Nourishment; Glee
Rebegin; Ozone
Reunion; Resignment
Escourt; Exhaust
Greet; Brief
Abandon; Exhale
Preperation; Sojourn
Tension; Ceremony
Meditation; Solitude
Exchange; Embarkment
Crisis; Averted
Dusk; Bamboo
Strategizing; Idleness
Frustration; Inadequacy
Reflection; Tao
Citrus; Silt
Haste; Completion
Filing; Snack
Nourishment; Glee
Rebegin; Ozone
Reunion; Resignment
Escourt; Exhaust
Greet; Brief
Abandon; Exhale
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Cooking day at work
Take one leg of lamb, marinate until reasonably mature. Be sure to tenderize just enough to make it crsipy on the outside, but somewhat soft inside.
Stud liberally with nuts, and spice slightly.
Slow cook in pot on low heat, stirring occasionally.
Take pile of various other wholesome ingredients and mix in seperate pot. Put in fridge.
These may be done in advance, to save time. On the day of cooking;
In a large mixing bowl, mix one batch of chopped onions, a cup of radishes, and a half a cup of lemon juice. Dump concoction into pot on stove with lamb.
Slow simmer in a coffee base, while alternating leg of lamb between bitter onion mixture, and wholesome ingredients. While in wholesome ingredients, mix in a package of crackers, liberally crushed under multiple people's shoes.
Blanche leg of lamb in onion mixture, then suddenly scorch mixture under high heat, stirring periodically. Take care that the lamb and onion mixture DO NOT MIX PROPERLY. Continue to alternate between onion mixture and fridge. If the leg of lamb curdles, you must discard it, and try a new recipie.
After 8 hours, remove the leg of lamb, and mix it in with some warm chinese food, or marinate in alcohol. Any leftovers may be frozen to good effect.
The key to success with this recipie is to start with a good leg of lamb, and allowing it to cool fully wile in the fridge.
Happy Cooking
Stud liberally with nuts, and spice slightly.
Slow cook in pot on low heat, stirring occasionally.
Take pile of various other wholesome ingredients and mix in seperate pot. Put in fridge.
These may be done in advance, to save time. On the day of cooking;
In a large mixing bowl, mix one batch of chopped onions, a cup of radishes, and a half a cup of lemon juice. Dump concoction into pot on stove with lamb.
Slow simmer in a coffee base, while alternating leg of lamb between bitter onion mixture, and wholesome ingredients. While in wholesome ingredients, mix in a package of crackers, liberally crushed under multiple people's shoes.
Blanche leg of lamb in onion mixture, then suddenly scorch mixture under high heat, stirring periodically. Take care that the lamb and onion mixture DO NOT MIX PROPERLY. Continue to alternate between onion mixture and fridge. If the leg of lamb curdles, you must discard it, and try a new recipie.
After 8 hours, remove the leg of lamb, and mix it in with some warm chinese food, or marinate in alcohol. Any leftovers may be frozen to good effect.
The key to success with this recipie is to start with a good leg of lamb, and allowing it to cool fully wile in the fridge.
Happy Cooking
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Seuss Day at work
I was starting my day,
Just beginning my shift,
when I noticed my mind
was attempting to drift.
I forceably brought it
back down to the present,
but in it, my heart,
rather clearly, just wasn't.
Guarding my who-ville
from threats large and small
was a task that required
my brain and my all.
Thus, I set up a game
requirin' me to think;
Was rewarded by feeling
my anxieties shrink.
I'm off checking the team rooms,
cubicles, bathrooms and halls
while leaving my partner
at the desk fording calls.
We excel at maintaining
all serene and secure.
Site access problems?
We diagnose and then cure.
I also check boilers,
the heavy machinery too,
though if it broke down,
what the heck could I do?
In the stale boiler room,
feeling light hearted.
I happened to wonder,
had someone just farted?
I've quite often noticed,
as on foot I've patrolled
that the mechanical rooms
smell rather musty and old.
Damn. No more cake.
Someone took it away.
How can they expect me
to get through my day?
I guzzle my coffee,
It's flavor's improvin'
but my doc and my tummy
are sharply reprovin'.
Someone left notes comparin'
happiness to a hat.
That it's hollow and empty?
I don't think they meant THAT.
The people that work here
are funny and kind.
Leaving jokes and small toys,
even puzzles, I find.
My cell phone is dying,
the battery's toast.
Of the energy left,
I must make the most.
The packet of crackers'
still left on the stairs.
Doesn't the perp know
That this mess is theirs?
Lunch is still soup.
It makes my brain suck.
Few more lunches like this,
and I won't give a crap.
Okay, so my rhymes
are often quite dirty,
but trust my IQ
is one hundred and thirty
No nachoes today,
'cause I've run out of loonies
I could loan myself out,
"Watch your back for 2 toonies."
When I get home late,
my house is so freezin'
get out of bed later?
need one heck of a reason!
So I give you my efforts
be they awesome or poor
In the vague little hopes
that my blog, you'll adore.
But if anyone else
wants to try this as well;
please bear in mind,
I'm a Seuss-er, Profession'l.
Just beginning my shift,
when I noticed my mind
was attempting to drift.
I forceably brought it
back down to the present,
but in it, my heart,
rather clearly, just wasn't.
Guarding my who-ville
from threats large and small
was a task that required
my brain and my all.
Thus, I set up a game
requirin' me to think;
Was rewarded by feeling
my anxieties shrink.
I'm off checking the team rooms,
cubicles, bathrooms and halls
while leaving my partner
at the desk fording calls.
We excel at maintaining
all serene and secure.
Site access problems?
We diagnose and then cure.
I also check boilers,
the heavy machinery too,
though if it broke down,
what the heck could I do?
In the stale boiler room,
feeling light hearted.
I happened to wonder,
had someone just farted?
I've quite often noticed,
as on foot I've patrolled
that the mechanical rooms
smell rather musty and old.
Damn. No more cake.
Someone took it away.
How can they expect me
to get through my day?
I guzzle my coffee,
It's flavor's improvin'
but my doc and my tummy
are sharply reprovin'.
Someone left notes comparin'
happiness to a hat.
That it's hollow and empty?
I don't think they meant THAT.
The people that work here
are funny and kind.
Leaving jokes and small toys,
even puzzles, I find.
My cell phone is dying,
the battery's toast.
Of the energy left,
I must make the most.
The packet of crackers'
still left on the stairs.
Doesn't the perp know
That this mess is theirs?
Lunch is still soup.
It makes my brain suck.
Few more lunches like this,
and I won't give a crap.
Okay, so my rhymes
are often quite dirty,
but trust my IQ
is one hundred and thirty
No nachoes today,
'cause I've run out of loonies
I could loan myself out,
"Watch your back for 2 toonies."
When I get home late,
my house is so freezin'
get out of bed later?
need one heck of a reason!
So I give you my efforts
be they awesome or poor
In the vague little hopes
that my blog, you'll adore.
But if anyone else
wants to try this as well;
please bear in mind,
I'm a Seuss-er, Profession'l.
Space Day 2
Begin routine download of nutritional substances: Duration of One hour.
##My usual horrible soup is tempered by my favorite program; an old historical documentary called "Star Trek". I fondly recall seeing some of the actual equipment they used in the museum on a class trip when I was a larva.##
Continuing inspection of ship through podatric means: Remainder uneventful.
##I guess that's it for this cycle. Most crew are coming out of cryo now, and we're warming up for a heavy day of flying.##
End report. Please Repost to Series Delta569.
##Can get awful lonely here in the black. -Kaywinnet Lee##
##My usual horrible soup is tempered by my favorite program; an old historical documentary called "Star Trek". I fondly recall seeing some of the actual equipment they used in the museum on a class trip when I was a larva.##
Continuing inspection of ship through podatric means: Remainder uneventful.
##I guess that's it for this cycle. Most crew are coming out of cryo now, and we're warming up for a heavy day of flying.##
End report. Please Repost to Series Delta569.
##Can get awful lonely here in the black. -Kaywinnet Lee##
Space Day at work
Security Supervisor's log stardate: 080110
Id badge: 528197
Notes supplied by previous crew: Possible alien invasion suspected.
##I'm not really worried about this development. This girl could fly herself, and us, home.##
Checked computor diagnostics: Running well.
Relieved command of helm to Robot second. Proceeding to podatric duty, including external ports. Southern ports airtight.
##It's cold outside, but beautiful##
Disposal units, Recycling system, and Living quarters: Top notch
##Just a few of the items on my laundry list to keep this bird afloat. It's mostly blinking lights and wires though, too advanced for me to understand anymore. You could call me an electrical janitor, I guess.##
Proceeding to western wing.
##Sometimes I get too poetic about my job, but when you're stuck between a howling engine powering a system as big as a globe, and the vast silent terribleness of space, you think some. S'pose that's why I took this job way out here.##
Life Support units 1-4: Fine.
##I try not to think too much though. There are so many secluded storage units here. Too tempting to sit and just think. We had a guy last lunar cycle lose himself in the hologram room. Work is key to avoid existential crisis, which could easily prove fatal. My comm unit keeps buzzing at me, but I've got more pressing considerations##
Notify Maintenance and Engineering: North ports showing signs of stress.
##A friend of mine has left his projection system running while he's gone to stasis. Further inspection of the area reveals someone else has resurrected the lost art of Bay-King, and has given us a Caik. A singular treasure. I just hope my enzymes can process it.##
Transporter 3: Operational
##I'm always a little worried that one of these things will malfunction and little bits of me will get mixed with other little bits. I hear tell that people way back on earth used to work by the constant light of a sun. I wonder what that would be like, rather then working by the shine of all the chorme here?##
4100 systems: go
##Someone has spilled a carbohydrate packet on the manual access to deck two. Damn. I like that flavor.##
Check in with mothership: Automated positive response.
Male Gender identifying entities waste disposal and Bacterial removal unit: smells.
Excess data packets: Reassigned to quarters.
##Some of the previously beautiful alien fauna we've brought onboard has perished. The "godliness" technician is in at an unusual cycle. He's a member of the bipedal species called "humans", and my mouth cannot replicate his speech, but we nod to each other. A universal sign of solidarity in blank space. I'm lost again, out deck 3's transparency screen. All those tiny points of light. I guess I'll join them soon. I can feel it.##
Deck three's IDF room: Secure.
##I check out the new design specifics on some prototype mechs being displayed on someone's desk. Pretty good.##
Returning to helm to relieve second-in-command for scheduled maintenance.
##After ordering some auditory stimulation, I request some Nachos(tm) from the replicator machine. I still thank them back. Old habits die hard, I guess.##
Id badge: 528197
Notes supplied by previous crew: Possible alien invasion suspected.
##I'm not really worried about this development. This girl could fly herself, and us, home.##
Checked computor diagnostics: Running well.
Relieved command of helm to Robot second. Proceeding to podatric duty, including external ports. Southern ports airtight.
##It's cold outside, but beautiful##
Disposal units, Recycling system, and Living quarters: Top notch
##Just a few of the items on my laundry list to keep this bird afloat. It's mostly blinking lights and wires though, too advanced for me to understand anymore. You could call me an electrical janitor, I guess.##
Proceeding to western wing.
##Sometimes I get too poetic about my job, but when you're stuck between a howling engine powering a system as big as a globe, and the vast silent terribleness of space, you think some. S'pose that's why I took this job way out here.##
Life Support units 1-4: Fine.
##I try not to think too much though. There are so many secluded storage units here. Too tempting to sit and just think. We had a guy last lunar cycle lose himself in the hologram room. Work is key to avoid existential crisis, which could easily prove fatal. My comm unit keeps buzzing at me, but I've got more pressing considerations##
Notify Maintenance and Engineering: North ports showing signs of stress.
##A friend of mine has left his projection system running while he's gone to stasis. Further inspection of the area reveals someone else has resurrected the lost art of Bay-King, and has given us a Caik. A singular treasure. I just hope my enzymes can process it.##
Transporter 3: Operational
##I'm always a little worried that one of these things will malfunction and little bits of me will get mixed with other little bits. I hear tell that people way back on earth used to work by the constant light of a sun. I wonder what that would be like, rather then working by the shine of all the chorme here?##
4100 systems: go
##Someone has spilled a carbohydrate packet on the manual access to deck two. Damn. I like that flavor.##
Check in with mothership: Automated positive response.
Male Gender identifying entities waste disposal and Bacterial removal unit: smells.
Excess data packets: Reassigned to quarters.
##Some of the previously beautiful alien fauna we've brought onboard has perished. The "godliness" technician is in at an unusual cycle. He's a member of the bipedal species called "humans", and my mouth cannot replicate his speech, but we nod to each other. A universal sign of solidarity in blank space. I'm lost again, out deck 3's transparency screen. All those tiny points of light. I guess I'll join them soon. I can feel it.##
Deck three's IDF room: Secure.
##I check out the new design specifics on some prototype mechs being displayed on someone's desk. Pretty good.##
Returning to helm to relieve second-in-command for scheduled maintenance.
##After ordering some auditory stimulation, I request some Nachos(tm) from the replicator machine. I still thank them back. Old habits die hard, I guess.##
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Noir Day part 3
Lunch was soup that looked like whale blubber. I wished for the millionth time that the kitchen was open this late, but it was locked up tight, like everything else in this place.
A tinny program filtered through the air as I supplimented my soup lunch with Nacho chips. My doctor had drawn attention to my inappropriate diet; I had drawn attention to the fact that my biceps still looked like mangos. Only in size, not color.
Finishing up, I was back on the trail. People were beginning to get their days started.
Checking the site my undercover had mentioned, I was startled to find it empty. Where were the goods? She was reliable source, but maybe someone else had shaken her down already. It mattered little, in the grand scheme of things, since it would probably be full again by this time next week. Life's like that, I guess.
I stopped in to see another informer of mine. He was alright; introduced me to a new friend of his. I couldn't stay long, if someone knew about my undercover, it might be risky to be seen together. As I walked away, I heard them talking about me. I was a POI, or person-of-interest. It seems that all my connections had been compromised. I wouldn't know for sure until the excrement hit the rotating climate control device.
Tired of running in circles, I returned to the office, replacing my partner at the desk. There was little else to do here, now, other then try and fix my busted surveillance system. A couple of wacks and even that was finished.
Looks like things were back to the old waiting game.
I thought about apple pancakes for breakfast, wondered if they'd go with the white wine I'd been saving. I had a contact to impress tonight, but I doubt he liked pancakes as much as I did. I might even have to go grocery shopping. I contemplated a menu while clipping my nails with scissors. Pure Class.
Another day, more questions, and less answers. Just what I'm used to.
A tinny program filtered through the air as I supplimented my soup lunch with Nacho chips. My doctor had drawn attention to my inappropriate diet; I had drawn attention to the fact that my biceps still looked like mangos. Only in size, not color.
Finishing up, I was back on the trail. People were beginning to get their days started.
Checking the site my undercover had mentioned, I was startled to find it empty. Where were the goods? She was reliable source, but maybe someone else had shaken her down already. It mattered little, in the grand scheme of things, since it would probably be full again by this time next week. Life's like that, I guess.
I stopped in to see another informer of mine. He was alright; introduced me to a new friend of his. I couldn't stay long, if someone knew about my undercover, it might be risky to be seen together. As I walked away, I heard them talking about me. I was a POI, or person-of-interest. It seems that all my connections had been compromised. I wouldn't know for sure until the excrement hit the rotating climate control device.
Tired of running in circles, I returned to the office, replacing my partner at the desk. There was little else to do here, now, other then try and fix my busted surveillance system. A couple of wacks and even that was finished.
Looks like things were back to the old waiting game.
I thought about apple pancakes for breakfast, wondered if they'd go with the white wine I'd been saving. I had a contact to impress tonight, but I doubt he liked pancakes as much as I did. I might even have to go grocery shopping. I contemplated a menu while clipping my nails with scissors. Pure Class.
Another day, more questions, and less answers. Just what I'm used to.
Noir Day part two
When my partner returns, we have a brief dicussion. I leave on my rounds, he stays at the office. It's better this way.
Entering the industrial area, there's a line of formless shapes behind a mesh fence. I try not to look at them. Close by is the kitchen. Makes some of the best grub known to man. Not as good as my momma's, but she's far away, and good food is hard to find. The staff here know my face, know what I like, help me drown my sorrows in apple pancakes. The blonde skirt running the show is one you don't wanna mess with. We understand each other. I don't mess with her turf, and she doesn't ask questions. I like her.
People 'round here like to post things on their walls. Little sayings. Reminders that we're human. I read 'em. Least I can do.
I check out a couple of the usual joints on my duty. They're cold and empty. Kinda like me. I got a headache coming, probably cause I haven't had a drink in so long. I stop at my favorite watering hole, but it's not enough. It's never enough. Soon I get the ground beneath my feet again. Heading to where I'm not supposed to be. I'm in there everyday. Mostly to check for trouble, but also to show them that I can. And to show myself that I can.
Little noises pull my attention to a room packed with boxes, stuffed with who-knows-what. My badge gets me into everywhere, even some places I don't wanna go. Sometimes it's lonely out here. Being one man, the only line between order and chaos.
It's foggy outside. A lone car stands in the pool of lamplight. I know the guy says he owns it, says he'll be back for it. We'll see.
Nursing a drink, I consider the issue rising between my partner and I. I wonder if I'll have to involve the boss. My boss is a looker. Someone more foolish than me might mistake him for another pretty face, but I've see him in action. He gets the job done, and I respect that. He stays out of my way, and I like that.
'Round 2 o'clock I get the feeling that it's going to be a quiet night, although I'm not sure if it's instinct or hope. I got a deadline to be back at the office by. Hope I make it. Checking out the cartel on my way back, a man in a dress stares at me. I try not to stare back. I'm not sure if he'd like it, or not. Another man is eating a plate of garlic. He is every time I see him. I wonder why. I smile at him. He never smiles back.
There's a land war over some nearby territory. I don't know the players, but I guess I don't need to. I just need to know the winner. Right now? Could go any way.
I take my badge off to answer the call of nature. It's the only way I can. Little about this gig is natural.
I sign my name on my report with enough time to make it back to the office. Even some time to grab some of the swill I call "coffee". I stop in at the Lady L's. I need comfort and her place always provides. Let the office wait. I do.
Back behind my desk, I type up a report on some problems I've found. I wonder if the perp will ever be punished. Probably not. That's how it always goes. I turn my mind from the issue to the little lady waiting for me at home. Hope she's safe. Just got her back from the hospital today, and I'm a little worried about losing her again. She's seen me at my worst, and still seems to love me.I wonder what I did to deserve her. Probably something in a previous life, I decide.
The crooner nearby insists that some chicky has him "lifted, gifted, higher then the ceiling". It's been a while since I've heard this one. I wonder if he'll play it again.
Takes me four tries to remember the new password.
Entering the industrial area, there's a line of formless shapes behind a mesh fence. I try not to look at them. Close by is the kitchen. Makes some of the best grub known to man. Not as good as my momma's, but she's far away, and good food is hard to find. The staff here know my face, know what I like, help me drown my sorrows in apple pancakes. The blonde skirt running the show is one you don't wanna mess with. We understand each other. I don't mess with her turf, and she doesn't ask questions. I like her.
People 'round here like to post things on their walls. Little sayings. Reminders that we're human. I read 'em. Least I can do.
I check out a couple of the usual joints on my duty. They're cold and empty. Kinda like me. I got a headache coming, probably cause I haven't had a drink in so long. I stop at my favorite watering hole, but it's not enough. It's never enough. Soon I get the ground beneath my feet again. Heading to where I'm not supposed to be. I'm in there everyday. Mostly to check for trouble, but also to show them that I can. And to show myself that I can.
Little noises pull my attention to a room packed with boxes, stuffed with who-knows-what. My badge gets me into everywhere, even some places I don't wanna go. Sometimes it's lonely out here. Being one man, the only line between order and chaos.
It's foggy outside. A lone car stands in the pool of lamplight. I know the guy says he owns it, says he'll be back for it. We'll see.
Nursing a drink, I consider the issue rising between my partner and I. I wonder if I'll have to involve the boss. My boss is a looker. Someone more foolish than me might mistake him for another pretty face, but I've see him in action. He gets the job done, and I respect that. He stays out of my way, and I like that.
'Round 2 o'clock I get the feeling that it's going to be a quiet night, although I'm not sure if it's instinct or hope. I got a deadline to be back at the office by. Hope I make it. Checking out the cartel on my way back, a man in a dress stares at me. I try not to stare back. I'm not sure if he'd like it, or not. Another man is eating a plate of garlic. He is every time I see him. I wonder why. I smile at him. He never smiles back.
There's a land war over some nearby territory. I don't know the players, but I guess I don't need to. I just need to know the winner. Right now? Could go any way.
I take my badge off to answer the call of nature. It's the only way I can. Little about this gig is natural.
I sign my name on my report with enough time to make it back to the office. Even some time to grab some of the swill I call "coffee". I stop in at the Lady L's. I need comfort and her place always provides. Let the office wait. I do.
Back behind my desk, I type up a report on some problems I've found. I wonder if the perp will ever be punished. Probably not. That's how it always goes. I turn my mind from the issue to the little lady waiting for me at home. Hope she's safe. Just got her back from the hospital today, and I'm a little worried about losing her again. She's seen me at my worst, and still seems to love me.I wonder what I did to deserve her. Probably something in a previous life, I decide.
The crooner nearby insists that some chicky has him "lifted, gifted, higher then the ceiling". It's been a while since I've heard this one. I wonder if he'll play it again.
Takes me four tries to remember the new password.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Noir day at work
The coffee's cold again. It always is.
I grimace, remembering the previous morning, barreling out the door in a panic to avoid being late for my four-legged friend's appointment. The broad on the line sounded like she didn't like waiting, and I had to get it done today. Dame was in a hurry. They always are. Sometimes it's just best to play their game.
I suffer through the old run-off, moving down the dimly lit stairway to receive a briefing from the last shift. They're tired, and want to go home. Hell, we all do.
"The password's changed. Don't forget." I study it carefully before crumpling it into illegibility. Security. It's what we do.
My partner grabs the master-key, heading out to patrol the area, scoping for trouble spots. I take over the desk, staring at the wall, like I've done a million times before. Outside, the lights illuminate dull, wet areas of street, people moving through them like zombies; Business man worried about his paycheque, young couple clinging to each other, shifty-eyed man moving quickly.
I shuffle through my papers, each looking like a photograph of the previous day's. Suddenly, something caught my eye; Some property we'd loaned out previously hadn't been returned. That was bad. When things got late enough to come over to my shift? There was trouble.
I radioed my partner, crackling over the static to keep an eye out. For what? anything unusual. We had a case on our hands, and it had to be dealt with. I decided to search up the usual suspects. I'd named them all in my head: Mugsy, Shorty, Lefty. Dunno why they all sounded alike. Maybe 'cause they all looked alike. In this line of work, people all blend together after a while. I'd started to suspect people in my sleep. What were they doing? What had they done? Tossing it over in my mind until I woke up in a cold sweat, the cat licking my face.
I had settled into my desk when the door flew open and in marched a scary looking man. He had something in his grip; I lept to my feet, ready for action. He thrust it into my hands, "Here.", and left without a word. I unwrapped the package, fearing the worst. Maybe I shouldn't have let the rookie out alone? But it was the property we'd loaned out. Safe and sound. I couldn't help wondering why had it come back so late? Was something going down?
After filling in my partner, I sat down to do some heavy research. If something was happening in my territory, I had to know about it. And soon.
*To be continued*
I grimace, remembering the previous morning, barreling out the door in a panic to avoid being late for my four-legged friend's appointment. The broad on the line sounded like she didn't like waiting, and I had to get it done today. Dame was in a hurry. They always are. Sometimes it's just best to play their game.
I suffer through the old run-off, moving down the dimly lit stairway to receive a briefing from the last shift. They're tired, and want to go home. Hell, we all do.
"The password's changed. Don't forget." I study it carefully before crumpling it into illegibility. Security. It's what we do.
My partner grabs the master-key, heading out to patrol the area, scoping for trouble spots. I take over the desk, staring at the wall, like I've done a million times before. Outside, the lights illuminate dull, wet areas of street, people moving through them like zombies; Business man worried about his paycheque, young couple clinging to each other, shifty-eyed man moving quickly.
I shuffle through my papers, each looking like a photograph of the previous day's. Suddenly, something caught my eye; Some property we'd loaned out previously hadn't been returned. That was bad. When things got late enough to come over to my shift? There was trouble.
I radioed my partner, crackling over the static to keep an eye out. For what? anything unusual. We had a case on our hands, and it had to be dealt with. I decided to search up the usual suspects. I'd named them all in my head: Mugsy, Shorty, Lefty. Dunno why they all sounded alike. Maybe 'cause they all looked alike. In this line of work, people all blend together after a while. I'd started to suspect people in my sleep. What were they doing? What had they done? Tossing it over in my mind until I woke up in a cold sweat, the cat licking my face.
I had settled into my desk when the door flew open and in marched a scary looking man. He had something in his grip; I lept to my feet, ready for action. He thrust it into my hands, "Here.", and left without a word. I unwrapped the package, fearing the worst. Maybe I shouldn't have let the rookie out alone? But it was the property we'd loaned out. Safe and sound. I couldn't help wondering why had it come back so late? Was something going down?
After filling in my partner, I sat down to do some heavy research. If something was happening in my territory, I had to know about it. And soon.
*To be continued*
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)