Duri and ruminations...
See also; Rheumatism, Senility, Rhomboid.
(Note: most of this was written late last night in a Sudafed induced stupor, then copied to a .txt and now pasted into Hotmail at a cafe on Cap Hill, and now added to on whim. Do not ask, simply smile and nod…)
So I’m just about ready to fly out of the country (Wed afternoon) and have managed to get a headcold (Ear Infection. Left ear. Dr. says looks like hell. Has given me antibiotics with a warning label that says things like “Do not mix with air. Take only as directed, or hair ignition may occur..”), thereby making my last few days in Seattle a fuzzy blur of fun. But still, I’m finding time (while driving the motorcycle approximately 2,000 miles in two days and stumbling through Fred Meyers looking for a needle and thread to use as a fishhook in case the plane goes down in Wyoming) to look forward to the trip. In my current condition I’ll be catatonic the first week I’m in Amsterdam, but I should recover in plenty of time to get into trouble before I get on the bike and head SouthEast.
As romantic as I’ve made this all out to be, it really is the product of a job gone bad and a situtation that had to potential for serious uglyness. I’ve just taken the attitude that if I might be going to hell in a handbasket it’ll be a handbasket with a pool-deck.
And it’s a strange time to be leaving in many ways. I’ve met allot of new and neat friends over the last nine months, have been enjoying living in Seattle again, and have found a new passion for dancing that has put me back in shape for the first time in years and has ensured that no one will get within 6 feet of me on the dance floor (‘passion’ not being interchangible with ’talent’). And I genuinely don’t know if I’ll be back, since I’ll be looking for work while I’m there and keeping my options open. If I do get back I’ve no idea what I’ll be doing. Possibly back to QA, possibly training/consulting or doing the QA management book I’ve been tinkering with, maybe nothing on the current list. Maybe tunafish and rye bread and couch-surfing while I try to find work as a air traffic controller. Dunno.
So this is definately a leap into open air, but I look at it this way;
- I’ve found out the hard way that if it doesn’t kill me outright, I can recover from it.1. At the very least I’ll have allot of stories that start with “No shit, there I was in Troy…“1. If I don’t come back in the near future most of you will remember me if only because you’ll want to crash on my couch somewhere in Europe.1. If I do come back, I’ll have spent 4 months running around on a bike with a backpack in the sun and will LOOK LIKE A GREEK GOD!! (Think Zeus; Large, hairy, beard to his bellybutton, lightning bolts in each hand, running around and chasing Vestial Virgins, goats and poaching the occasional minor deity, like Mercury…)1. How many other times in life might you have a chance to get a T-shirt that says “Kiss me, I’m Swedish” in Turkic?See you all in 4 months or so..
PS: I’ve put you all on an
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