The Cubicle Farm

(listening to a randomized mix of Sting's Nothing Like the Sun, Eric Clapton's Me and Mr. Johnson, Oysterhead's The Grand Pecking Order and Lyle Lovett's Live in Texas)

I'm sipping a glass of Black Box Merlot, a very nice, mouthfilling, velvety, dry, plummy wine. My wife is away on business. The house is pretty blah without her. Comfortable and pleasant enough, but utterly unmotivating and rather boring. I need time to myself, but not too much. This is too much. The sky is grey and Tropical Depression Jeanne approaches. I don't really feel like going out to see a movie; it's just not exciting enough to get me out of the house. I have the History Channel, the Food Network and my jolly new Star Wars Trilogy DVD set to keep me safe from the perils of industriousness and ambition. Speaking of which, there's the topic of work:

I'm still happy, but I'm adjusting. I've been training and squeezing as much information into my factory-second brain as possible, but there is no substitute for time spent on the job-- I am assigned to a project which is in a period of major change. My coworkers and I have a very abbreviated time frame in which to become functional, and it is a bit daunting.

Having drained to the lees the rhapsodic cup of shit-job escape, I have come to the grim realization that I still have to go to work.

I have not written very much here lately; I have used the term 'sedated' to explain it. I hope it passes. Perhaps I'm just using up my meagre brain power at work. Perhaps it's all still new and challenging, and I need to be a little bored and fidgety in order to be creative. Cubicles don't bring out the seething lust for life in people, if I may permit myself a generalization.

Nevertheless, I'm very glad to have the job that I have. I just can't seem to rid myself of my disdain for the very idea of a job. So much fascination, pleasure and satisfaction can be gained from non-work activities. It naturally follows that one could accomplish more of those in the absence of a job (but with money magically coming out of your nostrils). Here are some examples of what I've done lately in spite of my laziness:

1)Making prosciutto, scallion and ricotta filled ravioli
2)Toasting various sandwiches on my iron griddle , and enjoying the fact that the wife enjoyed them:
-pastrami on potato bread, with parmiggiano on the buttered side, which yields a golden-brown and tasty crust
-Albacore tuna salad with fresh cilantro from the garden, on home made wheat bread with kosher dill pickle slices
-A Quesadilla filled with chopped pastrami, ricotta and hummus (sounds weird, but it turned out to be rather tasty)
3)Writing tasting notes on the wonderful beers that my brother-in-law sent me for my birthday (beers which I could not purchase in North Carolina because of the backward and idiotic 6% alcohol limit)
4)Washing dishes to my obsessive-compulsive standards of cleanliness (in order to maintain some order in my not-quite-as-big-as-could-be-wished kitchen)
5)Ordering and impatiently waiting for my Viking knife from CutleryandMore.com

I'm not exactly Mother Theresa. I consider myself a bum, but I'll make you a hell of a sandwich.